


Forbidden Fruit Tastes the Sweetest

by msfahrenheit



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: All three of them are bisexual, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bearded Chris Evans, Bearded Sebastian Stan, Consensual Underage Sex, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dare I say they are a dysfunctional family, Dirty Talk, F/M, Female Reader, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Pining, Seb bottoms for chris and tops for reader, This started as a dream and somehow became a fic, Top Chris Evans, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 48,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msfahrenheit/pseuds/msfahrenheit
Summary: You’re sixteen years old and the last of a family that never was when you’re taken in by Chris Evans. He gives you the life you always wanted, becomes the father you always wanted, and you’re happy. Truly.Except there’s one problem; your feelings for him aren’t as platonic as they should be. It only gets worse when Sebastian Stan enters your life.
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Reader, Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan/Reader, Sebastian Stan/Reader
Comments: 283
Kudos: 525





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers! This fic is my brainchild and very self-indulgent. 
> 
> Also, I do NOT condone/advocate for underage sex or pseudo-incest in real life, no matter the legality. The reader may be legal in both Massachusetts and New York when she has sex, but seeing as she is under 18 I have tagged this fic as underage. 
> 
> I also want to say I trust that Seb and Chris are good enough people to NOT sleep with teenagers and the concept of this fic does not reflect any views I actually have of either man. This fic is basically the written form of a fantasy I personally had as a teenager regarding my two favorite actors. The things I write do not always reflect my personal views. 
> 
> Now that that is out of the way, enjoy!

You don't have any other living family so they whisk you away to a group home. A friend of the father who died when you were too young to remember him takes your case into his hands, determined to place you somewhere you will be treated like you deserve. It’s a friend of a friend that recommends Chris. 

He’s not married; but he has the money and he’s willing to take in a teenager. With the busy life he has, a young child isn’t an option. He’s too impatient to wait for one of his own, so he immediately accepts. You arrive at the house in Boston six days later. 

He’s waiting for you. Beard full like the media pictures, bright blue eyes, a wide smile, and large biceps stretched across his chest in a tight sweater. The dog at his feet barks happily, excited for a visitor. His face is familiar to you, after years of watching it in movies and interviews alike, but you push the inner fangirl inside, as far down as you can. He welcomes both you and the caseworker in and shows you to the room that is now yours. It’s plain and undecorated but he tells you that you can do anything you want with it. You smile shyly, but inside you burst with joy. Finally a space that is entirely yours, with no remnants of those who ruined your life.

It’s not official yet but he charms his way into getting you to stay at the house until it is. You’re glad. The group home was horrible. You eat dinner that night, takeout picked out by you and delivered right to the door. It’s an indulgence. He cracks open a beer to celebrate and let’s you have a sip. You take an extra one for good luck when he glances away.

The two of you begin to bond that night, over film and acting and anxiety and dogs. Speaking of dogs, the gorgeous canine spends the evening at your side. It seems both residents of the house enjoy you being there. 

You’re doing fine, good even, for the first time in a while until it’s time to go to bed and the bad thoughts return. You can’t go to him because it would be weird. But the dog is in his cage so you cuddle him. He allows you to and once you feel better, almost an hour later, you return to bed. It takes you hours to fall asleep. 

Over the course of the next few days you bond with him. Except you call him Sir and Mr. Evans and refer to him as just _he_ in your mind, because you feel too weird saying anything else. That is until you’re sitting watching TV one night and he tells you that he wants to introduce you to people, if that’s alright with you. 

You tell him it is, because that’s the truth. You want to see what the media doesn’t. 

“You know,” he says, soft and gentle. “Just Chris is fine.” 

“Okay,” you respond, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Chris.” 

The next weekend there’s a group of people in the house. Family, friends, family friends, and even a few actor friends. You recognize a few of them. Of course, there’s his brother, not as famous as Chris but trying to get there. And then Sebastian. 

The anxiety coursing in your veins and the fangirl you’ve had to suppress for almost two and a half weeks now attempts to come out again. You don’t let it. He introduces himself and he’s just as handsome as the pictures and videos show. His eyes crinkle when he smiles and his eyes shine so bright and his hair looks perfect to run your fingers through and you think you might die right there in the kitchen. Somehow, you don’t.

You muster up enough courage to talk to him and not sound like a bumbling idiot. He asks you how you are adjusting and how Dodger likes you and if Chris cooks okay and even school. You don’t know about school yet. You’ll have to talk about that with Chris. 

You mention your interest in acting and maybe it’s a little weird, but he gives you his number and tells you if you have any questions you can call him. He doesn’t really do the texting thing and you don’t like it, but you understand. 

Sebastian is filming in the area, apparently, so he and Chris go out for drinks one night. They come back almost too drunk for your liking. But, they talk with you and try to pry information out of you, even asking if there’s any boys you like. You laugh it off because you can’t tell them that boys your age don’t fit your taste. 

Later that night, close to one in the morning, Sebastian has to go. You send him off by calling an uber and he gives you a hug, thanking you for doing it. You’ve only met him once and he never seemed like the overly physical type, but maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through his veins. 

Either way, you don’t pull away. The cologne on his neck and shirt is strong, but you don’t even come up to his chin so you ignore the overpowering scent so he can burrow into his chest. His arms are big and warm wrapped around you, so you hold on for just a little too long. You hope he doesn’t notice. 

That night you dream of both of them. You’re not even in the dream, just an outsider looking in. You feel guilty when you wake up, even though it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Plenty of people in your life pop up in your dreams, but something about them is different. 

Chris sets you up for online schooling that day and you’re glad because that means you get to travel around with him when he films and does press and stuff. It’s his idea, even his reasons for it too. You try to hide the blush that forms, because he’s clearly thinking of what’s best for you. 

It’s not the first time you hug, but it throws him off a little when you jump over the side of the couch and wrap your arms around him. You nuzzle into his side and he grins. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into him. He kisses the top of your head and you try not to melt at the feeling. 

“Of course.” 

That is the catalyst for your relationship changing. You begin to send him funny memes and pictures, usually about himself or his characters. You hug more often. You voluntarily hang out with him and he begins to ask you to do so. A few nights you even come to him when your anxiety and the bad thoughts, the ones that list the reasons you don’t deserve what you have and that you should be dead, get to be too much. He sits with you for as long as you need, rubbing your back and reciting comforting words. 

He doesn’t feel exactly like a father should, but you wouldn’t really know anyway. Besides, you don’t really want him to be a total father to you. You can’t imagine calling him Dad. 

You sign up for an acting class for teens a little while after, but it’s hard to make friends your own age. It always has been for you. Adults just get you better. You spend the majority of your time in the house with Dodger and/or Chris. 

However, a month later your life in Boston is uprooted because Chris has to film in New York for a movie he’s doing. He’s not exactly the star, which is good for you because it means less time he’s away from you, but he has a decent enough part to warrant some loneliness. He figures you two will be there for a month or so. 

You get situated in a hotel with him, in a suite with two rooms. Dogs aren’t allowed though. Dodger stays with a friend of Chris’s. You find yourself bored out of your mind one day so you go exploring. It’s the costumed people in Times Square that make you think of it, when you see a Captain America, but you decide to call Sebastian. 

You’re surprised when he answers and even more surprised when he invites you over. Maybe it’s weird, but you accept and take the subway over to his place. You wrote his address on the palm of your hand, but you sweat it off by the time you get to the stop. Sheepishly, you call him and ask for his address again. His laughter fills your ears as you explain why, truthfully describing the anxiety you have. Sebastian relates a story to you about a similar experience. It makes you feel better. 

Ten minutes later, you arrive at his place and the doorman buzzes you up after confirming your attendance. When you arrive upstairs, Sebastian is waiting for you. He’s in a navy hoodie and jeans and he’s smiling so big it probably hurts. Your stomach flutters as you stand in the doorway, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t hug you this time but he claps a large hand on your shoulder and guides you in. 

You get to talking as you both settle in the living room and he tells you he isn’t working currently. On a break between projects for a few weeks. He’s needed it, he tells you. You can see it just by looking at his eyes and the way he holds himself. 

You laugh and talk and bond even more by trading dumb stories about Chris and he gives you acting advice and it’s nice. It feels good to talk to someone, besides Chris, who actually gets you. 

Two days later, you’re back there again, but this time with homework. You spend the day on his couch in sweats and a shirt you think might be Chris’s, writing an essay and singing along to Sebastian’s playlist as he cleans the apartment. It’s calming and pleasant and you wish you could live like this forever. Unfortunately, you can’t. 

However, Chris doesn’t have to work late the next night, so Sebastian invites you both out to dinner. His treat, he says into the speaker phone. Chris agrees and you put on the nicest clothing you bought with you and head out with Chris’s hand on the nape of your neck the next evening. His suit is clean and crisp and his beard is trimmed and he’s handsome, just as always. Sebastian looks just as good and you try not to think about the two men while they’re sitting on either side of you at dinner. 

Chris and Sebastian have a relaxed, casual friendship with banter and something that’s almost flirting and you really can’t tell whether they act more like brothers or boyfriends. 

You go back to Sebastian’s later that night and he serves Chris a glass of whiskey and you a single shot. He just smirks at you when you point it out. By the time you leave two hours later, your head is swimming and your body is warm and relaxed and if you need to hold on to Chris to support yourself, you certainly don’t complain. He doesn’t either, not commenting on your intolerance. 

Another few days go by. You go to set twice with Chris but don’t do it again. You spend the rest of your days doing one of four things; exploring the city alone, exploring with Sebastian as your tour guide, doing work in his apartment, or sitting watching Netflix in the hotel room alone. 

Obviously you prefer to spend time with Sebastian. He’s kind and caring and he remembers the little things you say and he’s intelligent and genuine and he doesn’t treat you like a child. He’s the perfect person to spend your days with and you can’t help but notice you’re getting just a little too attached. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do that. Getting attached means getting hurt and you don’t want anymore hurt. Chris is one thing, but Sebastian? 

The third week in New York you, Chris, and Sebastian have dinner together three nights in a row. The first night Chris takes you and Seb out, one night you get takeout, and the last you all cook together in Seb’s kitchen. 

Cooking together, _spending time together,_ is nice and you can’t help but let yourself revel in the feeling it gives. You love their company and the way they regard each other and they way they regard you and it’s almost too perfect. After dinner, the three of you sit on the couch together, watching a movie you’ve never heard of. Chris takes up too much room with his giant thighs and broad shoulder and you’re squished between him and Seb. Your legs are getting numb in your chest to knees situation so you decide to plant your legs in Chris’s lap and lean against Seb. 

Neither one pulls away from your touch. You fall asleep against them twenty minutes later, lulled into a slumber by the low hum of the movie and the warmth they each give off that engulfs you. You don’t wake until it’s time to go. Seb gives you a hug and just before you pull away, a kiss on the cheek. It takes all your willpower to not touch your fingers to the spot. 

Chris and him hug after Seb pulls away from your embrace and you can’t help but notice the way their touch lingers for just a few too many seconds. 

In your hotel room, hours later, you can’t sleep. Thoughts race through your head. And they’re not good thoughts. It starts with thinking about how the dynamic with Chris and Sebastian almost feels like a family. A family was something you never had the luxury of having. Quickly, you realize it won’t last. The good things never last. 

You begin to cry, because of course you do. It starts with silent tears but faster than you like it becomes hiccuping sobs. As the bad thoughts begin to flood your head, unwanted but with no means to make them disappear, the tears flow faster and faster. After a good five minutes, you throw the duvet off your body and practically race to Chris’s adjacent room. 

He must’ve been awake already because faster than you even realize, the nightstand lamp is on and his body, sitting up against the headboard, is on view for you to see. You don’t know where to look because his hair is tousled and eyes too bright to gaze at and his thin t-shirt is rucked up and you can see his happy trail and the tight boxers he has on are low on his hips and the bulge in them isn’t small and even through your tears and sobbing, you can’t deal with all that at once. 

“I can’t sleep,” you muster out through a sob, forcing your eyes to look down at the floor. 

“Come here,” he says. He pats the side of the bed next to him and you scramble over, almost too fast to be normal. You don’t speak as he wraps his arms around you. You’ve never really been a talker when it comes to emotions and he understands that by now. So, he wipes the tears from your eyes and holds you as you slowly stop sobbing and hiccuping. 

You feel too horrible to recognize that he lays you both down onto the mattress and you fall asleep in his arms. When you wake up in the morning, your face is pressed against his chest, tucked right under his chin. You pretend to be asleep so you aren’t forced to move. 

Unfortunately, he knocks a large thigh between your own pair and you’re forced to acknowledge a very real and present problem when a certain heat begins to pool in your lower stomach. You’ve been able to push it down and ignore it for a good few months now, but once Chris does that, you don’t know how you can pretend you don’t feel that way anymore. 

It doesn’t hold you back though. It’s a problem, a very big and bad one, but you ignore it as best as you can. Admittedly, it’s more difficult to do now. As soon as you realized it wasn’t just a simple attraction and something a lot more than that, you knew it was going to be harder. You try to be as discreet as possible about it. God forbid Chris were to find out, you would be out of the house in seconds. 

The problem is, Chris is a very affectionate man. It’s hard to not nuzzle into his touch or even preen at his complimentary remarks. It’s easier when you two aren’t in Boston. Yes, Chris is around less, but at least you don’t have to pretend you don’t want him to bend you over a table all the time. 

You don’t ignore Chris, but you do try to spend less time with him alone. Keep your feelings at bay. So you spend time with Dodger. You call Seb often. You hang out with some of your acting class friends. You put a lot of effort into getting good grades.

Things are well. Until they aren’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try biweekly updates with this fic but please bear with me!

A while later Chris is filming a new movie in southern California. He’s thrilled to be in it and can’t wait for it’s release next year. He’s hoping it doesn’t bomb when it opens. He’s happy. _You’re_ happy, happy for Chris at least. And this time you two were able to bring Dodger along with you an it’s almost as good as being home in Boston. _Almost._

However, Chris is also stressed. Like _, really_ stressed. He hasn’t been sleeping much, more so since principal production began, and the work days are long and exhausting. It’s a wonder your anxiety and bad nights haven’t begun to bother him. Maybe they have. If they are, Chris hasn’t voiced it yet. 

Late one night, Chris returns to the rental home, and you immediately recognize the fatigue on his face and body. His shoulders are hunched over and his eyes are close to drooping. You want to rub his shoulders and then hug him tight, but you’re too swamped with work to do so. 

The built up tension inside of him causes him to chastise you for something and you begin to argue. You were texting throughout the day so you know it was a bad day for you both. You honestly don’t even remember what the argument is about, because it’s so _stupid_ and absolutely miniscule, but it somehow escalates into a full blow fight. 

You’re both screaming and yelling at each other and you say things you don’t mean. Things you _really_ don’t mean. They’re low blows and you can see the immediate hurt on Chris’s face but he’s screaming at you too. With an almost red face and a voice nearing being hoarse, the words being hurled you’re way _hurt._ You’ve dealt with worse before, but something about it coming from Chris hurts _._ It hurts to an extent you’ve never felt before. 

Something activates your fight or flight response, because you can’t handle it. A quick, impulsive thought makes you storm out of the rented house and ignore the shouts you faintly hear Chris give. It’s nearing sunset and a little chilly out despite the early autumn weather but you begin to walk down the street. Tears form in your eyes and you don’t want to cry, because crying has always made you feel weak and childish, but they fall anyway as you continue down the block. You don’t know how long you’re walking for, but when you finally stop, it’s completely dark and you have no idea where you are. You don’t want to go back to Chris but don’t know where else to go. 

It’s _so_ , _so_ stupid, but you get an idea. You might as well take the chance when you have it. 

Six long hours later, you’re on a flight from LAX to LaGuardia, having used the credit card linked to Chris’s bank account to buy the ticket. Your phone has been on silent mode for hours already when you check it and you see there’s twenty-four missed calls from Chris and over fifty texts. You shut the device off. 

It doesn’t matter at this point. You’re gonna be in so much trouble but it’s _your_ fault Chris was yelling at you and honestly, you don’t know how to deal with the repercussions of that. Your solution has always been to run. It hasn’t failed you in the past. But, now? You have Chris, someone who actually, genuinely cares about you, so maybe it will. 

Sebstian might not even be home, you realize. He could be filming. He could be doing literally anything an actor of his caliber does that isn’t being home. You don’t even realize that until you’re halfway down the block. It’s after eight in the morning and the city street is bustling as always. You hope he’s awake, let alone even home. 

Someone else is walking in the door at the same time so you don’t have to deal with the doorman. He looks at you, possibly recognizing you from the month a while back, but says nothing. The elevator ride up to Sebastian’s floor is quiet. Your heart is thumping inside your chest and you pray he’s home. You really don’t want to have to get a hotel room. New York is too expensive for anything you’ll have to pay Chris back for. 

You reach his floor and hesitantly step out of the elevator. Making your way down the hall to his door is one of the most anxiety causing moments of your life. Raising your fist to knock on the door, you take a large breath and do it. 

You don’t hear sound for a few seconds, beginning to get worried Seb isn’t home. You’re about to turn back and leave when the sound of shuffling and the click of a lock meets your ears. A nervous smile takes its place on your lips as the door swings open. 

His face is sleepy and his hair is disheveled. He’s still in pajamas too, a tight, short sleeved shirt and flannel pants. You can’t help but make a small noise. He looks adorable. 

Once Seb realizes who is at his door, his face melts into confusion. 

“Surprise?” You say sheepishly. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, puzzled. Seb shakes his head. “You know what, just come in. I need some coffee.” 

You follow him inside the familiar apartment to the kitchen and sit down at the table. Seb begins to make himself a cup of coffee. Neither one of you says a word. Turning on your phone, you check your messages. You have over one hundred missed texts, over fifty missed calls, and three voicemails. 

Quickly skimming through the texts, almost all from Chris, you see countless messages asking where you are, what you are doing, if you are okay, why you aren’t answering, and more. _I’m fine_ , you type out.

Pressing the send button, you close the messages app and put your phone on the kitchen table, face down. You don’t want to deal with Chris right now; not after last night. The whir of the coffee machine startles you and you look up to see Seb standing by the machine. He looks absolutely exhausted. He really does need that coffee. 

Seb puts some milk and sugar into the mug and then sits down. Closing his eyes, he takes a sip and then lets out a pleased sigh. He opens his eyes back up and makes contact with yours. 

“Okay, so what’s going on?” 

Logically, you knew he was going to ask that, but it didn’t really occur you would have to tell Seb what happened. Internally groaning, you slump down in the wooden chair. Once he knows why you’re in New York he’s probably going to laugh at you and then call Chris to come get you. 

“Chris and I had a fight,” you mumble.

“Hm? Can’t hear you?” He’s almost teasing you. Like he knows how you’re feeling. Like he _knows_ you overreacted and make a stupidly rash decision. Of course you know you overreacted. As soon as you stepped onto the plane, hours ago, you knew it was a bad idea. But you couldn’t turn back then and definitely can’t now. 

“Chris and I had a fight,” you clarify, loud enough for Seb to hear. 

“About... ?”

“I don’t know!” You burst out with. Taking a deep breath, you stop for a second to collect yourself and calm down. Something about the topic makes you testy. “I don’t know.”

Seb smiles softly and you don’t expect it. He walks around the table and pulls one of the chairs next to the one you’re sitting in. He plops himself down, careful to not let the coffee spill. “How many times do you think Chris and I have fought?” 

Neither Sebastian nor Chris have terrible tempers. You know one when you see it. You’ve seen them annoyed and cranky before, but their relationship is unusual enough that you can’t imagine them fighting. Seb must see your confusion because he lets out a soft chuckle and leans close to you, faces just inches away. 

Your breath stops short and you hope he doesn’t notice. You just can make out the barely there stubble growing on his face and the perfect blue of his eyes. 

“Chris has been my friend for ten years now. He’s also one of my best friends. We fight a lot more than you think.” 

You groan and drop your head against his shoulder. “It sucks!”

Seb grabs your shoulder and rubs, leaning his head against your own. “I know,” he says quietly, almost regretful. “I know.”

Your throat begins to close up and a tear forms in your eye. Of course you have to start crying. What else would your reaction be? 

“We were talking about something and I don’t even remember what it was but we started arguing about it and then Chris raised his voice and I don’t know, but I like, freaked out,” you say, trying to not make it obvious you are crying. “I started yelling and then he started yelling and I just _couldn't_ handle it.” 

“Disappointing Chris Evans is the worst feeling in the world.” Seb might only be half joking but your heart aches at the statement. Your eyes look up at Seb and he’s staring down at his feet. “There’s just something about seeing that glint in his eyes go away.”

“And his smile turn into a frown.” It’s only for a split second, but Sebastian’s face falls and you see something. You see something you hadn’t noticed before. 

You might not be the only one who wants Chris. 

Surprisingly, you’re not jealous. You’re not jealous at all. The feeling in your chest is something entirely different. Maybe, just _maybe_ , it’s because you don’t just want Chris. Maybe, just _maybe_ , you might want Seb too. It’s stupid. It’s horrible. It’s _wrong._ You’re still crying, but your lips form a small smile. 

Seb lets you stay the night. You have to sleep on the couch but it’s better than nothing. He doesn’t explicitly tell you, but he heavily implies he’s told Chris where you are. You're not too happy about that, but at least Chris knows you’re safe and not bleeding to death in a gutter. 

You feel terrible about making him worry. His anxiety can only be heightened by the situation and facing him is going to be extremely difficult. Not only because you’re going to be in trouble and he’s going to be absolutely furious, but he’ll be _so_ worried. 

You wake up the next morning and everything is fine for about forty minutes. It’s not until you realize you’re going to have to face Chris soon that you begin to worry. Your heart drops in your chest and you can’t seem to breathe as the bad thoughts begin to fill your brain. 

Sitting on the floor of the living room, in front of the couch, you realize you feel a panic attack coming on. The hyperventilating begins and the tears start to flow without you realizing and every moment is a constant undulance of your brain telling you that you aren’t good enough. That you don’t deserve Chris. That you’ve fucked it all up. That he hates you. That, like always, you screw up _every_ good thing in your life. 

It’s not a total blackout that occurs, but what happens after is only a fuzzy memory. Sebastian enters the room at some point and helps you. He assists you to his bed and lays you down. You are able to recover, wrapped burrito style in a large, fuzzy blanket. You can’t fall asleep, still trying to stop the heaving and your racing heart, but the tears do eventually dry on your cheeks and your mind clears. 

The doorbell rings sometime later and you hear voices. You can’t make out what Seb and the other person are saying but footsteps sound, closer and closer, with each second. Your head shoots up. Immediately, your heart begins to race again. 

Oh no. _Oh no, oh no, oh no._

The door creaks open slightly and Seb whispers “Hey, you awake?” 

Apparently, you don’t have control over your body. It feels like you’re there but you aren’t in control because you make a small, affirming noise. Your head turns to look at the doorway and there stands Seb, with Chris at his side. 

“Hi,” Chris says, voice quiet and strained. His hands are stuffed inside his pockets and his face is solemn.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to them getting together!

He’s upset. Of course he’s upset. What else would you have expected? You ran off after the first time he yelled at you to an entirely different state using _his_ money and he was forced to take time off work to come get you. 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Chris continually moves his eyes, looking everywhere except you. Sebastian glances between the both of you and sighs. “Well, I’ll leave you two to talk.” Seb exits, leaving you and Chris alone. 

Chris moves slowly, walking towards the bed. He takes a seat on the side of the bed. Placing his hands in his lap, he lefts out a soft breath. He doesn’t make another sound after that and the room returns to silence. The only thing you hear is the bustling sounds of the city outside. You must be sitting in silence there for at least a minute before Chris speaks. 

“I’m not not mad.” He doesn’t look up, doesn’t even move. “I mean, not anymore, at least. I’m more... disappointed now.” 

Wow, okay. That totally doesn’t hurt. Not at all. You never knew what it felt like to have a parental figure disappointed in you. It was always anger or indifference. Your mother ignored you for most of your life and when she didn’t, she was screaming. The one stepfather you had held no care for children and treated you like you didn’t exist. 

“I’m sorry,” you let out weakly. 

Chris finally looks at you and his expression reminds you of Dodger’s when he’s reprimanded for doing something wrong. You’ve never seen a grown man look so much like he’s about to cry. 

“ _No_ ,” he says, regret and sorrow lacing his voice. “Disappointed in _myself_. Disappointed in myself for getting angry at you like that. Disappointed in myself for yelling at you. Disappointed in myself for making you think you couldn’t come back. Originally I was _so_ angry at you, but now I’m just glad you’re safe. Once I found out where you were it felt like I could finally breathe after almost drowning. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, and it comes out almost a whisper, like your voice can barely form the words. 

Chris moves closer to you, faster than your brain can comprehend. His arms are wrapping around you and one of his large hands is cradling your face as he pulls you close. His beard tickles your cheek but you can’t bring yourself to care. “ _Oh, sweetheart_ , it’s not your fault.” 

Your heart pangs in your chest at the name and you almost clutch it. You’re on the verge of crying too and you don’t know if it’s because he called you sweetheart or if it’s because dealing with emotions has never been your forte. You stay in that position for almost too long. Chris continually kisses the top of your head and you nuzzle into him. You never want to let go. 

Chris doesn’t make you leave Sebastian’s place. In fact, he asks Seb if you two can stay. Apparently there aren’t any open flights back to LAX until tomorrow afternoon. You spend the rest of the day at the apartment. He has to go to a meeting halfway through the day but you and Chris waste the time alone binging a show on Netflix. 

You’re curled up on the couch with Chris and your legs are stretched out across his lap. He’s absentmindedly stroking your ankle. Your leg is beginning to fall asleep so you shift your foot and it falls almost too close to his groin. 

You don’t realize until Chris jerks away from you, eyes wide. It’s there for barely a second, but something you've never seen from him before flashes across his eyes. You pull your legs off his lap, excusing yourself to go get water. On your way to the kitchen you think you might hear a slight groan come from his chest but you don’t want to let yourself think you can have that. 

Sebastian returns to the apartment around six thirty and you’re almost relieved. Ever since the couch incident earlier, Chris has been acting weird. You hoped it wouldn’t be _that_ big of a deal, but you were wrong. Things were fine until it happened, even taking into consideration how you flew halfway across the country after a fight. 

Seb eases the tension when he brings back takeout after the meeting. Together at the kitchen table, the three of you just talk and eat. It reminds you of how much you’ve missed them, how much you’ve missed what you had the last time you were in New York. Reminds you how absolutely fucked up your most definitely not platonic or familial feelings for them are. 

Seb lets you both stay the night, insisting Chris shouldn’t have to book a hotel. He gives you two the bed and takes the couch. You feel bad but you're not so sure how keen Chris would be sharing the bed with Seb. (Seb on the other hand…)

But, you tell Chris you’ll just ask for some blankets and sleep on the floor. Immediately, he adamantly refuses, telling you it wouldn’t be fair. And being Chris, he even goes as far to tease you about not wanting to be near him and the blush that travels up your neck and cheeks does nothing to help you. 

It’s not that you don’t want to be that close to him, it’s that you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. Admittedly, it does go better than the last time you slept in the same bed together. Neither of you can sleep for a while so you stay up talking in hushed whispers, not wanting to wake Sebastian despite the bedroom door being closed. You’re facing each other, heads on pillows barely a foot apart. It’s almost too intimate and you genuinely don’t know if you want to kiss him or runaway. 

“Hey,” Chris says, soft and sweet. He’s absolutely exhausted and his accent, prominence only growing with his sleepiness, is a rich sound in your ears. “I love you.”

It almost goes over your head that he’s never said it before. _Almost._ However, the relationship you have isn’t like that, you’re forced to remind yourself as some part in the back of your brain tells you to grab his face and kiss him, telling him you love him too like a mantra. 

You force yourself to make eye contact and he’s biting his lip, nervous and waiting in anticipation for your reaction. You can only imagine all the ways his brain is thinking you might react. But you force yourself to let out a quiet giggle. Force yourself to be the perfect daughter and smile, saying “I love you too, you meatball.” 

As soon as you realized it was a thing, calling him a meatball, you couldn’t stop doing it. It annoys Chris to the ends of the world, claiming you’ve turned on him by calling him that horrendous name, but it’s kind of your thing now. The nickname is the perfect way to disguise your true feelings. 

Hopefully he doesn’t see through you. A part of you hopes he does.

You don’t want to leave when you wake up in the morning. Like a kid who doesn’t want to leave her mom on the first day of Pre-K, you cling on to Sebastian. Your body is practically wrapped around his and if you were ten years younger, you would be throwing a tantrum. 

Luckily, you’re mature enough to understand adults have responsibilities and no matter how much you want to stay in New York, you can’t. Seb is leaving for some press stuff in Europe later in the week anyway. The flight home is just okay because you’re moping, but somehow Chris gets first class seats and that makes things a little bit better. 

Once you land, the first thing you’re forced to do is pick up Dodger. It’s almost punishment, because it’s your fault he had to stay with someone. But, once Dodger sees you two, he’s as excited to see you as he is when it’s months away. Screw the fight and everything that happened after, you’ve got your little family right here, in a Disney-loving man-child and a mixed-breed boxer. 

Things don’t go bad after that. Everything is almost normal. Normal might be subjective, but your normal is as close to the ordinary as it can get. 

You have a bad night a while later so you go to set with Chris. You don’t want to be alone and napping in a trailer with Chris only three minutes away is better than having a breakdown in a stupid rental home with Chris almost twenty minutes away. 

Chris comes to collect you sometimes around noon and while you’re munching on some pretty damn good tacos, you meet one of the cast memeber’s younger sisters. She’s nice. More cynical than you, but with a sense of humor that matches perfectly. She invites you to a “get together” she’s having that Saturday and of course you accept because L.A. is boring and lonely. 

He’s surprised you want to go, but Chris lets you because you need friends. Your sense of reality is twisted and warped because your days are spent alone or with two almost forty year old men and a dog. He flat out says it in those exact words and it stings just a little bit, but he’s right and you can’t deny that. 

There’s drugs and alcohol because it’s Los Angeles, so of course there is, but you don’t do anything. You might be fucked up mentally but you don’t really want to get fucked up physically. 

However, you do meet some people. Maybe they aren’t the best, but they’re teenagers. People your age. You get their numbers. You spend time with them that night and many days after. You’re almost happy. Chris is happy for you. 

But, ever since your life turned around when Chris adopted you, you fuck things up more than you did before so life starts to go rapidly downhill after that. A lot of things are uncertain; but you do know it starts because you meet a boy. 

His name is Jason and he’s a year older than you. He’s tall and muscular and his teeth shine almost too brightly when he smiles. He treats you like a decent person should and unlike most people in L.A., he doesn’t have stupidly unrealistic dreams of Academy Awards and red carpets. 

The fact that he wants to make out more often that not and doesn’t want you to meet the rest of his friends and refuses to call you his girlfriend can be disregarded because you _need_ it. You don’t think about Chris and Seb like _that_ anymore. They become less of equals in your mind and more like the pestering adults most teenagers would think of them as. Who cares if you really aren’t that interested in Jason.

You actually begin to feel like a real teenager. You have friends (who you party and sneak out with), you go out on a regular basis (to said parties), and you have a boyfriend (who isn’t really a boyfriend but technicalities aren’t that important). 

Making out with Jason one day, he tells you he wants to do more. You’re not dumb, you know it means sex. It’s not that you don’t want to, because you’re almost seventeen and losing your virginity has been on your mind for two years, but something says you shouldn’t. Listening to that part of your brain, you put it off for a while longer. 

The prolonged wait makes Jason more aggressive. More often than not, the two of you are doing…stuff. It’s two weeks later when he gets fed up. You finally give in because what else are you supposed to do. 

Honestly, the sex is almost laughable. Jason is almost eighteen and he’s not a virgin, but it’s _bad._ The only thing that gets you off after Jason quickly finishes into the condom is thinking of a man with a deep voice and a rich accent, a full beard, and broad shoulders fucking you into the mattress while whispering sweet things in your ear.

You try your hardest to convince yourself it isn’t Chris you’re thinking of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting even closer!!! ;) 
> 
> Hope y'all are enjoying this so far!

You return to the rented home around eleven and you can’t look Chris in the eye, despite adamantly repeating to yourself it wasn’t him that got you off. 

Chris is sitting in the kitchen, drinking a beer, and asks how your “date” was. You cross your fingers and hope he’s none the wiser that you’ve not only lost your virginity, but had sex less than two hours ago. You reply back that it was fine with just enough attitude to make him back off, but not so much that he’ll get upset, and go to your room. 

Things continue like this for a while. Slowly, you come to learn you’re playing a part. You know this isn’t you, yet you continue to act as if it is. You never thought of yourself as an actress but maybe spending enough time around two of the world’s most famous actors gives you the ability to be one. 

Jason continues to want sex so you continue to do it with him. He learns after a while that girls need release as much as boys do and he’s not very skilled at getting you off, but it’s good enough. Certainly not as good as doing it yourself though.

The condom rips one day, but luckily you realize before it’s too late. You ask Chirs to start birth control the next day. He’s suspicious so you’re forced to make up some bullshit about wanting it to help with period cramps and your acne. It’s not a total lie, because it will, but _still_. You’ve always felt bad about lying but somehow the words spill out of your mouth like it’s the truth.

Chris stares at you with a blank expression and crossed arms. You’re almost certain he knows until he waves his hand almost dismissively and says, “If you want to then sure, whatever.” He sets up an appointment with a doctor for you. You should be happy, because at least there’s very little chance of getting pregnant, but you feel almost numb. 

The little act you’re putting on is tiring. Regardless, you don’t know how to stop. You’re doing everything a teenage girl should be, but it’s not enough. Anxiety attacks and depressive episodes come more often and you don’t know what to do. You can’t go to a therapist, or Seb or Chris, and certainly not to your “friends”. 

The life you onced loved having turns into something bleak and undesirable. No wonder so many stars have breakdowns. It’s the same thing day in and day out. You’re numb and absolutely miserable.

One evening he isn’t filming, you overhear Chris on the phone with someone. You follow his voice and find him lying on the couch, his head propped up by a pillow. You shield your body with the wall so you can eavesdrop without being noticed

“I’m really worried,” he says into the phone. “It’s getting really bad.” 

There’s a pause as the other person speaks. Chris sighs, his chest rising and then falling. 

“This isn’t like her! Even you know that–”. He stops abruptly, presumably cut off. Wondering if he’s talking about you, you stay secluded so you can continue to listen. 

“Seb, listen,” Chris says exasperated. Of _course_ he’s on the phone with Sebastian. “She’s not doing good. She spends all day in her room and when she comes out she barely talks to me. When was the last time she called you, Seb? And when she does leave this place all she ever does is hang out with that stupid kid and party!” 

He’s not yelling but his voice is loud and cross enough to make you stomp off. You don’t care if he hears you. Something about him acting so much like a parent and worrying about you like this sets you off. Bouncing onto the unmade bed in “your” room, you pull the covers up and call Jason. He doesn’t pick up so you text him. 

_‘I’m busy, baby”,_ he types out a few seconds later. _‘Come over later tho?”_

You fling your phone onto the nightstand and groan loudly. You close your eyes and try to fall asleep but your body refuses to comply. Sometime later, the door is pushed open slightly and Chris enters the room. 

“Hey kiddo, how are you?” He sits down on the side of the bed next to you. You briefly glance up at him and then lay your head down on the pillow again. 

“I’m fine,” you grumble, just wanting to be left alone. 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Chris smile softly. “I have some good news.” You shove your face into the pillow but he speaks anyway. “We’re gonna be leaving in a little less than a month. Production is going faster than we thought.” 

Your head shoots up. “What? No, we can’t leave!” 

Chris makes a confused noise. “I thought you would be happy.”  
  
“I have a life here, Chris!” The words just start coming out. The majority of your brain is yelling at you to shut up and back off, but that small part of your brain that’s been holding control lately takes over yet again. “I have friends and a boyfriend and things to do! I can’t just leave that all!” 

Chris stands up and crosses his arms across his broad chest. “Well, we’re going. And that’s final. I’m not staying in California.”

The last time you fought with Chris didn’t end well. Apparently you don’t learn from your mistakes because you fight his fire with a blaze of your own. “But, why? We have Dodger here with us! My life is in California now. _Jason_ is in California!” 

Chris laughs, a mockingly bitter noise. “Yeah _,_ _Jason_.” He steps forward and you sit up in the bed, sheet still covering your legs, pulling away from him “You deserve so much better than him.” 

You scoff. “Jason treats me nice! We get along. He’s good to me. Why aren’t you letting me have this? Why aren’t you letting me have something _good_?”

“Something good? Something _good_?” Chris throws his arms up in exasperation. He spins around on his feet and doesn’t speak for a few seconds. His voice is much quieter when he opens his mouth again.“You used to be such a good girl. Now, look at you. You’re running off to parties every other night and hanging with that scumbag who treats you like dirt. I bet if you were to find where he is _right now_ , he would be with someone else!” 

“Really, Chris?” You say, raising your voice again. “You just _had_ to go there didn’t you. Jason is good. I like him!” 

He spins around and stalks toward you with a red face. “Do you really think I haven’t encountered guys like that? Do you _really_ think twenty years ago I wasn’t in your situation with a guy like that? That a prick like Jason didn’t screw me over like he’s doing to you. ” 

It takes both of you a moment to realize what he has said. You stare blankly at him. 

“Wait, you–... _What_?”

Chris eyes shut as he groans, face falling into his hands. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you,” he says into his hands. 

“Well, how and _when_ were you going to?” You get up out of the bed and push past Chris. He follows you as you stride out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. You pour yourself a cup of water as your brain attempts to process what Chris just let out. “I’ve been out to you for _months_ now!” 

“Only a few people know!” 

“And I, being bisexual myself, couldn’t be one of them?” You’re not exactly mad. More annoyed than anything. Annoyed that he didn’t tell you. It’s not like he thought you wouldn’t support him. You’re bisexual and made sure to tell him that a long time ago. Regardless, you two are close. And he never should feel like he can’t tell you anything. 

But you understand it. Not everyone is ready to tell everyone. And Sebastian didn’t tell you either. However, he never _had_ to explicitly say anything. You were just able to tell he had feelings for Chris. And after all, all the queer characters he played was always a little suspicious. Especially the kissing and sex scenes. 

The one thing you will never admit to anyone on earth, ever, is that you’ve watched both their kissing and sex scenes. Anything that could remotely be considered “hot” has been watched by you. Some because of days you were bored and some because of some particularly sexually frustrating times. 

You get back into bed a little while later but you can’t fall asleep. Your brain begins to fill itself with all sorts of thoughts, both bad and good alike. And somewhere between the good and the bad is the sexual. Now that you know what sex is like, you crave both Seb and Chris more. 

You want it, you _need_ it. You need them. 

It’s nights like these that your hand slips past your pajama bottoms and panties and you touch yourself. You rub your clit, occasionally rubbing a nipple or inserting a finger into yourself. It aches and only thoughts of your two favorite men can get you off. 

However, this night is the first one where you imagine yourself with both of them, at once. And not just with both of them, but both of them with each other. Chris and Seb and you. 

The internet and wild fans have always shipped them, but now it’s a real possibility. Maybe not one with you in the mix, but still just as real. Your hand speeds up as you think about it. As you think about them not just touching you, but each other. 

You’ve always thought about how Chris and Sebastian would both be in control of you. It’s the first time you consider the dynamic you three could have. It would be Chris in control of both of you obviously. Your orgasm begins to approach as your finger speeds in and out. You come a few seconds later with the thought of being with both of them at the same time. 

For the first time in forever, you don’t feel as bad as you should about masturbating to the father figures in your life. 

As you come down from your orgasm, you think about the phone call Chris and Seb had earlier. You miss Seb a lot and feel bad about never really calling him anymore. The last time you spoke was over a month ago and very curt and brief. 

It’s around eleven in California so it’s after two AM in New York. With even just the slightest possibility of Seb being awake still, you decide to call him. After your breathing returns to its normal intervals and depth that is. You hope he picks up as the ringing fills your ears. You get sent to voicemail a few seconds later and you realize you might as well leave him a message. 

“Hey Seb,” you say, quietly. “It’s… uh, it’s me. I just wanted to see how you were doing. And say hi. Um... I miss you. A lot, actually. Would love to see you soon. I’m sorry for not talking a lot lately. Things have been a little hectic. Uh, call me back whenever you can. I love you.”

You throw the ‘I love you’ in there because you mean it. And with how you’ve been treating the two most important people in your life lately, Sebastian deserves it. He really does. You need him to know you still care, that you still want him in your life and aren’t some spoiled, materialistic teenager that just wants a celebrity in her life for the clout. 

Yeah, you’ve been acting like a total brat lately, but you got the reality check you needed. You’re going to turn things around and try to get back to your old life. Not your _old_ old life though. The life you actually almost enjoyed. 

Naturally, this means you’re going to end things with Jason. You shoot him a text

‘ _Hey, can I come over tomorrow? We need to talk.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry for the wait for this chapter. A lot has been happening lately. Hope you all enjoy :)

You attempt to set your life back on the beaten path and let things return to normal. It takes a few days of Chris being wary and almost on edge. You don’t avoid him as much, still enough to warrant a little awkwardness. It wears off once things feel okay enough to. Sebastian does indeed return your phone call and it’s almost an absent-minded “I love you” he gives as you say goodbye. The pure joy and warmth that fills your heart is nothing you’ve felt before. (You try to not think about the other, less familial way you love him after you hang up though. It stings too much.)

Chris finishes filming the movie a little less then a month later and you’re on your way back to Boston on the first flight you two can get after the wrap party. The best part about being back in your (second) favorite city is sleeping in your own bed. You’re going to miss this when Chris has to start press tours and stuff. 

With all the free time you have now, you also have a lot of extra time to think. Mainly it’s the usual depressing thoughts, like it always has been. But sometimes you allow yourself to reflect on what’s happened in your life and think about what you could've done better. You don’t want to repeat your mistakes. 

However, occasionally your mind will dig into things and go deeper. It’s one particularly boring evening, after you’ve finished all your homework and are too bored to do anything, that your mind goes to this place. 

During times like these, you remember your mother a lot. Remember how she treated you and how she treated herself and why she became what she did. Even how life could’ve been different if she’d loved you like she should have. But then your thoughts turn to Chris and how he’s given you more than she could’ve even if she  _ had _ been a good mother. 

You love him a lot. And he loves you too. You know that. 

And even though you mended things, something has been off with him recently. You don’t know what it is. In your mind, you replay everything that has happened recently. That night he confronted you in the kitchen and accidentally came out is the only event that sticks out. It was so odd. Chris had never shown a dislike of Jason before, even if he wasn’t good for you. 

Your brain supplies you with a thought you can’t let yourself have the luxury of having. It's ridiculous. It’s unreasonable. It’s not true. Not at all. But you want  _ so much  _ for it to be true. 

_ What if he was jealous?  _

You turn over and shove your face into the pillow beside you, letting out a loud groan. Honestly, it’s almost a scream. You’re glad Chris is safely asleep at this time in the night, because you don’t need him asking you why you’re making so much noise. 

That night you don’t sleep. You  _ can’t _ . Well, you fall asleep around five-thirty but only stay asleep for two hours. You get out of bed around eight and brew yourself some coffee. At least you can be ahead of things because you’re up so early. 

You’re intently fixated on staring at your coffee mug, almost caught in a daze, when Chris enters the kitchen with Dodger at his heels. “Morning,” he says, yawning. 

You look up to see him in a tight t-shirt and pajama pants. At this point, you thought you were immune to seeing his muscles so blatantly displayed, but the shirt is just  _ so _ tight that you can’t possibly be anymore. It reminds you how much larger he is than you and how he can pick you up with absolutely no effort and how  _ easily _ he could crush you. 

You start coughing and almost knock your coffee mug over when you realize you want to climb him like a tree at eight in the morning on a weekday. It’s not exactly how you intended to start your morning. 

Chris begins to not so subtly stifle a laugh. “You good there?” He asks, his voice almost a chuckle.

“Not funny,” you grumble. He gives you a look that clearly tells you he thinks it is. You roll your eyes and stick your hand under the table to give Dodger a scratch on the head. 

“Want to do something today?” Chris asks, sitting down in the chair across from you. “...Together?”

It’s the sign you need that things don’t have to be as awkward as they seem. You can do this. He wants to spend time with you. You want to spend time with him. Things can be okay. 

It’s a beautiful, sunny day so you go to a local park around eleven to have a picnic. It makes you forget about the night before and all the other bad thoughts you’ve had recently. However, you wish Seb could be with you two. He makes everything feel complete and like you have a  _ family _ .

Nevertheless, you plan on having fun. And you do. You and Chris play frisbee with Dodger before you eat and then walk around to find somewhere to set up. You settle on a secluded yet open area by a large tree, placing a blanket down to sit on. The food is good and by the time you finish eating, you’re full and sleepy. 

The sun hits you directly but it’s not so hot that you can’t stay there. You lay your head in Chris’s lap and close your eyes, basking in the warmth. Dodger sits by your feet, resting his head on your legs. Chris’s fingers begin to card through your hair and the pure ecstasy it sends through your body is enough to make you more drowsy than you already are. You’re so tired and it’s so comforting that you’re sure you’re only half awake at this point. 

A while later you feel eyes piercing into you and your eyes flutter open, directly making contact with Chris who is looking down at you with a smile on his face. 

“Hi,” you say quietly. 

“Hey.” He looks so content and happy. His eyes are bright and blue and radiant and his smile is small but contagious. You haven’t seen him this happy in a long day. He looks ten years younger and almost as if the weight of his life has been lifted off him even if just for this moment. 

His face comes closer to yours and you want to pull it right down until you collide and kiss him. You want to kiss Chris until you can’t breathe and you’re gasping for air. Until he pulls away and knocks your foreheads together. 

But you don’t. Because you can’t.

However, Chris does lean down closer to you and if you each moved an inch your noses would be pressed together. For a split second you think you don’t have to kiss him because he’s going to kiss you. Even though it’s entirely impossible, you suck in a breath and accidentally let your eyes flicker to his lips. Chris stops moving. You swear his eyes follow your move and look at your lips too. Your heart skips a beat. 

Before you can say anything Chris moves his hand and picks something out of your hair. He retreats away from your face faster than you can comprehend. Chris clears his throat. 

“You had some pollen in your hair,” he quickly says, almost like he’s trying to defend himself. 

You’re not really sure how to respond to that after the interaction that just occurred. “Uh, thanks.” You pull your head off Chris’s lap and sit up. Dodger lifts his head up too and you let out a small, amused noise. 

You’re too quiet after that interaction. You can’t comprehend it but simultaneously can’t stop thinking about it. The next few days are torture. Your mind constantly replays the moment, stuck on what the hell happened. 

As fast as you thought things would be normal again, your life shifts into a weird limbo. 

Chris and you don’t avoid each other, but you don’t make the effort to actively spend time together. Of course you eat meals together and sometimes watch TV together, but it just doesn’t feel right. He sits on the other side of the couch. The most he’ll touch you is giving you a pat on the shoulder. In a way it feels almost like Chris is pulling away from you but trying not to hurt you. 

One night Chris is getting ready to leave and when you ask where he just responds “out.” You shouldn’t be surprised because of how things have been the past week, but you’re a little affronted by the response. You try not to think about it while he’s gone. You go about your business; eat dinner, finish school work, call Sebastian. Just the usual. 

You’re having a half-past midnight snack when Chris returns. Nothing physically appears to be but something feels  _ off _ . He doesn’t talk with you as he takes off his jacket. Just gives you a stilted smile and says “I’m going to bed.” 

You watch him as he leaves the kitchen and it’s the smallest peak of a mark beneath the shifting fabric of his collar that makes you realize he went out and had sex. You don’t want to admit you’re jealous and angry, but there’s an uncomfortable rage in your stomach slowly rising. It makes you want to kick and scream. You clench your teeth and storm off to your room. 

It happens again twice more in the next week and a half and it pisses you off like  _ hell.  _ It’s not that you want him to want  _ you _ . (Because you do. But you did  _ before _ .) This is a new development and one you certainly don’t like at all. He’s a grown man. He’s stressed. He doesn’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend or anyone for that matter. But it still pisses you off and you don’t know what to do. 

Being upset about something trivial and keeping it to yourself is one thing, but anger has always been different. Something you’ve had to talk out. But with who? You can’t exactly tell anyone about your most-definitely-more-than-a-crush on your adoptive father. The anger builds up more and more each minute in the coming days. It swells up inside you and you know you’re going to burst soon. You can feel the break down coming. It’s only a matter of when. 

It’s late at night when it happens, about a week and a half later. You’d gone to bed hours ago but woke up simultaneously needing to use the bathroom and needing some water. Everything is fine until you’re making your way back to your bedroom. 

You hear sheets rustling and mumbled curses through the closed door of Chris’s room. You can’t make anything out clearly and can’t tell if he’s awake or just sleep talking. You put your ear to the door. A loud but slightly stifled moan carries through the air to your ear. Your eyes go wide and you almost accidentally knock your head against the door in shock.

The immediate reaction you have becomes a war inside your head. The rational part of your brain screams at you to leave and go back to your room. This is a private moment for Chris and it’s  _ wrong _ to listen. But, the senseless part of your brain keeps your ear pressed to the door, convinced it’s okay because you can’t be caught unless you make any noise. 

The sounds continue and it has to be more than a minute later when you realize your heart is thumping in your chest and your leg is shaking. But you can’t move. The war in your head rages on and your throat closes up. You try to breathe but you can’t. 

You need to go. You’re not sure you can. You’re disgusted with yourself. You feel vile and horrible but you  _ can’t  _ go back to your room. 

Chris moans again, amplified this time. The noises become louder than they were before. He definitely doesn’t know you’re awake. Words you can’t make out push themselves out between his moaning. In the midst of it all, you think you hear your name and  _ that’s _ what sends you running. 

You don’t even bother closing the bedroom door, out of fear of Chris hearing. But you dart into your bed and burrow yourself under the covers. A sob wracks in your chest. The tears start flowing. Slowly at first, but then like a river. You never learned how to cry silently so you fling a hand over your mouth. 

The emotions aren’t even clear. It’s a complete muddled mess. All you know is it  _ hurts _ . You want Chris. You want Seb. You want them both with you right now. 

It only makes you sob harder. You’re so stupid. You’re never going to have them, never even going to have  _ one.  _ It’s ironic, actually, because you thought you had found a better life when you came to live with Chris, but after everything that’s happened now, you’re not entirely sure you did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers, so despite me saying weeks ago I wanted to update this fic two times a week, I don't think that is going to happen. However, hopefully I will be able to keep up the one chapter a week thing. 
> 
> Now on to the chapter! I hope you all enjoy :)

The cold weather begins to pick up and go full force. Apparently it likes to match your mood. You're fed up with everything and upset with the world. Some days things are fine between you and Chris. Other days they’re not. You understand it while simultaneously not. The days things aren’t fine are the days you want to curl up in bed against his chest and cry in his arms. But you don’t. 

Sebastian is blissfully unaware of the now strained atmosphere, still asking about Chris when you talk on the phone. You’ve been calling Seb a lot more these days. He’s made it clear he knows something is wrong but hasn’t pressed past you blaming it on teenage hormones. 

Thanksgiving rolls around and you spend it with Chris’s family. You’ve met them before but it’s still awkward. You’re not close enough to anybody to really want to spend time with them. Except Scott, but you can’t spend the entire day with him and he knows Chris too well to not know something is up. 

You choose to talk and play with the kids, your cousins really, for the majority of the day. Every time Chris comes around to spend time with his nieces and nephews, you either politely excuse yourself to go to the bathroom or go on your phone. 

It continues to go on like this and the amount of times you break down crying in the following weeks is uncountable. The worst part is, it’s an unspoken thing in the house. Neither you nor Chris mention how your relationship has essentially dissipated. You _want_ to talk. You _want_ to get his side of the story. But something is holding you back. 

One of the girls from your acting class is turning eighteen soon and she invites you to her party. Clearly it’s only out of politeness, because you aren’t really friends, and you know exactly what it’s going to entail, a result of spending so long in L.A., but you decide to go anyway for the sake of social interaction. The night of the party, Chris has a benefit to go to. It’s perfect timing because you’re able to slip out of the house in a body con skirt and crop top without being lectured. 

The party isn’t fun. You go out to eat and then the birthday girl somehow gets you into a club. One of the other girls says something about her knowing someone who knows the owner but you’re not really sure exactly because the music is so loud. 

As the youngest one of the bunch and the only one that doesn’t look like she’s in her twenties with makeup, you’re a little afraid of getting kicked out. You have a drink just to say you did, in case you do. Somehow you don’t get kicked out. But dancing isn’t really your thing though, so you spend the rest of the night talking to another girl who doesn’t like it either. You leave before the rest of the girls, around twelve-thirty. By the time you actually get home, you’re sure Chris will be asleep. 

You pull your key out of your boot as you step out of the Uber you took home, shivering in the cold as you rush to the front door. Opening the door as fast as you can, you quickly find out Chris isn’t as asleep as you thought. 

He’s sitting on the living room couch, still mostly dressed. His suit jacket lays next to him and his sleeves are rolled up but besides that he’s still entirely in his outfit from the benefit. You’ll admit that Chris looks good. Not that you really _have_ to admit it, because you’re pretty sure he’s the only one oblivious to your feelings at this point. 

However, as much as you think he looks good in his outfit, it’s obvious he doesn’t approve of yours. Chris gives you a once-over and then makes a face. 

“Look who’s finally home,” he says, teasing. Patting the sofa cushion next to him, he motions you over. “Come. Sit here.”

Confused, you follow his directions and tentatively seat yourself beside him. “Why aren’t you in bed?” 

“I was waiting for you to get home.” Chris shifts his body towards yours. “So how was the party? Did you have fun?”

You don’t understand the friendliness or the questions or why he suddenly cares. “Why do you ask?”

Chris’s face twists. He looks affronted by the question. Almost appalled you even asked. “Because I care?” 

You scoff. On one hand you’re glad Chris even wants to talk to you but on the other, it just seems too suspicious. He’s been avoiding you for weeks now, showing no interest in anything concerning you until now. 

“Forgive me for asking,” you snap, “but you do realize you’ve been avoiding me for weeks now? You’ve shown absolutely _no_ interest in my life or even spending any time with me and now you come and start questioning me about my day out of the blue. I’m sorry for being suspicious, but I have reasons, Christopher.”

You never call him Christopher. Never. When people go by nicknames, it just feels too weird to call them by their full name. But, honestly? You’re pissed. You’re pissed and you’re suspicious and you just want this fucking mess to clean itself up without getting hurt. 

His mouth falls open, not expecting the outburst. “Okay, but did you _ever_ stop to think that there’s a reason?” 

“What? That you have feelings like everyone else in this world?” 

Chris’s voice raises and his face begins to redden. “Yes! I do! And just like everyone else sometimes certain things happen in your life and you need space!”

“You still could’ve _told_ me.” You let out a loud huff and stand up. “Just forget it. I don’t want to argue. I’m going to bed.” You turn to leave the living room. 

Before you can even take a step, Chris is standing up. “Wait,” he says, wrapping a large hand around your wrist and tugging you close to him. 

Your face ends up inches from his chest and you can feel the warmth radiating off him. Looking up, his blue eyes stare directly into your own. Even when angry or upset or whatever negative emotion he is feeling, Chris still manages to look like a golden retriever. His eyes are sad but he bites his lip. Your eyes follow the movement. Chris’s hand slides down your wrist and you know he’s going to pull away. You grab his hand before he can, without breaking your eye contact, and interlock your fingers. He lets out a soft breath at the motion. 

You don’t know what you’re doing. This is uncharted territory. Your heart begins the beat of the drum you’ve become so accustomed to knowing. But this time you think it might burst out of your chest. It’s so loud its overwhelming. 

You’re not sure what to do. Last time you were in a position like this, Chris pulled away and didn’t talk to you for weeks. You can’t pull away but you can’t _not_ move. Chris rubs his thumb over the hand that holds his. His long eyelashes flutter, closing and then opening. 

You almost whimper because he’s so pretty. And not just pretty but beautiful. Inside and outside. You have to do something. Say something or make a move but you have to do _something_. You make a split second decision.

Moving your free hand to rest on Chris’s bearded cheek, you pull yourself up onto your tippy toes and crash your lips together. You instantly want to pull away when Chris doesn’t immediately move in response, but then he’s letting go of your hand and both of his are cradling your face and he’s _kissing you back._

It’s soft. So slow and tender. You think you might melt under Chris’s touch. His plush lips nip at your’s. The way your lips move in tandem with his is such an intense sensation that you’re barely able to process it.

But then Chris is tearing himself away from you and your lips are cold and bare. His face looks like he’s been scorned by your touch as his hands retract. 

“We can’t,” Chris says, his hurt voice cracking. “We can’t. We _can’t_. It’s not right.”

“Chris,” you try to comfort. You move closer to him but he waves you away. 

“You’re just a kid and I’m so old, so much older than you. And that's not even mentioning I’m technically your _father_!” Chris sits back down on the couch. The absolute disaster happening in his brain is evident on his face as it drops into his hands. 

“I’m not a kid,” you say quietly. “I really haven’t been a kid in a long time. Screw my age. And who cares if it’s right or not. I want this, _you_ want this!”

Chris laughs bitterly. “God,” he groans. “This is all my fault. I didn’t know how to control myself and now this happened and I can’t take it back. Fuck! I’m sorry, kiddo.”

Your heart breaks at the word. “Please don’t call me that.” 

“It’s not right. We can’t.” Chris continues to ignore what you say. 

“Chris, _please_.”

“Let’s just forget this happened. Never talk about it again.”

“We both know neither of us are going to be able to do that.”

“You can go stay with Seb or someone for a while and I can forget this happened and you can get over your silly little crush and it’ll all be _fine_.” 

You finally snap, yelling at Chris. “This isn’t just some stupid teenage crush, Christopher! I’ve been in love with for literal fucking _months_ now and you expect me to just forget it all after a kiss like that?” 

Chris finally picks his head up. He looks right at you. “ _What?_ ”

Out of all the ways you could have told him, this is pretty low on the list. Not optimal, but definitely not the worst. Which, to say at the very least, is just okay. But now that you’ve said it, you don’t know where to go from there. Apparently your mouth decides the best option is to say it again. “I’ve been in love with you for months.”

“Huh?” Chris’s eyebrows narrow. “What? You–but _when_? I mean, but there was Jason! And I don’t know, I– I even thought you maybe had a crush on Sebastian.” 

You ignore the part about Seb because you already have to deal with one object of your desire attempting to understand your feelings for him. It certainly wouldn’t be fair to dump the fact of you also being in love with Seb on him. 

“Jason was more of a… sex thing,” you say quietly, looking down at your feet. It’s not that you’re embarrassed, (you totally are because Jason was a total dirtbag), but that you don’t know how Chris is going to react to you having had sex at sixteen. 

Chris is stunned. Maybe not just by the prospect of you having sex, but by the whole confession in general. He totally has the right to be, but you can feel the anxiety rising in your chest so you really hope he actually says something meaningful soon. His face and neck are flushing that rosy red you’ve seen so many times before. 

“Please say something,” you plead. It’s not like you’re expecting a confession right back, but _something_ would be nice. 

“I love you too,” Chris whispers hoarsely. A certain hope begins to emerge but it’s shut away when you see the tears welling in Chris’s eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. And everyday, I feel horrible and absolutely _vile_. Like some disgusting pedophile. Some days I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. The worst part is, I couldn’t tell anyone. Not Seb, not Scott, not even you. All I had was myself and my thoughts late at night, telling me how despicable I was, telling me they should take you away from me.” 

“I would never let that happen. I love you too much.”

“That’s the problem! That’s what makes this worse, that you love me too.” You’ve never seen Chris cry before and it pains you to watch it. He stifles his sobs, ever the man, as tears fall down his red cheeks. Every so often he wipes them away, but they just keep coming. 

You scamper over to Chris and settle yourself down in his lap. You place your hands on the sides of his face and force him to look you in the eye. Your heart drops at his puffy eyes and his tear tracked cheeks. 

“Hey,” you say softly, trying your best to sound comforting. “Everything you just said about yourself isn’t true. I’m not going to tell you everything I love about you and all that cheesy bullshit, especially because I know how you get. But, I will tell you that I love you. I love _all_ of you. The good, the bad, and everything in between. I love you at your lowest and your highest. And if you want me, I am here. Because I want you too. _So much._ But, if you don’t, I’ll be okay with that. No matter what, I'm not going away.”

Chris knocks his forehead against yours. “Promise?”

“I pinky promise.” You grab his pinky finger and cross it with your own. Sending him a small smile, you look into his eyes. You hated when people described his eyes as icy blue. They were far from it. His eyes were the warmest shade of blue you had ever seen. Almost like the flames of the hottest fires. “And I don’t need an answer right now. Whenever you’re ready. But, _please_ , remember that not only am I way more mature than my age and know exactly what I want, I am willing to do _whatever_ it takes to make this work if you do too. ” 

Chris leans back against the couch, letting his head rest on the back cushions. He stares up at the ceiling in silence for what has to be more than five minutes. But maybe your anticipation has just made time feel like it slowed down. If it weren’t for the occasional deep sighs and breaths, you would think Chris were asleep. Finally, he looks back at you. Chris raises his left hand and places it under your jaw, with his thumb resting on your cheek. 

“It’s not right,” Chris says solemnly and your heart immediately drops. “But, I don’t care. I want this. I want us. I want _you_.” 

You’re just about ready to lean in and kiss him, but unlike the time at the park, Chris goes through with his actions. He pulls you into a kiss that knocks every single ounce of air out of your lungs. This kiss is nothing like the one that ignited this all. It’s passionate and fast-paced. It’s wanting and demanding. You can hardly breathe but it’s almost like heaven. One of your hands slips into his hair, almost fisting the locks on top, as Chris settles a large hand on your hip. 

You adjust your position on Chris’s lap, moving closer to his chest. You make contact with his groin. His hips buck up and he lets out a soft moan. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, pulling his lips away from yours. “If you do something like that again you’re going to drive me insane.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” you respond coyly. It hadn’t crossed your mind before, but you’ll take anything you can get from Chris. Whether it means just grinding on him until he comes in his pants like a teenager or actually getting to fuck, you don’t care. 

“Are you sure?” Chris asks, serious and genuine. He plants his other hand on your other hip, keeping you in place. “You want this?”

 _"Yes_ ," you say, attempting to rock yourself against him. Because of Chris’s steadying grip it doesn’t do much but press friction against your own crotch. You whimper in response. 

“Fuck, okay. I guess we’re doing this then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter WILL be NSFW ;)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers!!! I'm so sorry for the wait. There's been so much going on lately and this Corona pandemic is making it all the more hectic. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had so much fun writing it ;)

The placement of Chris’s kisses moves to your neck. His soft lips and bearded face press against your neck, sucking lightly as his teeth gently scrape against your skin. 

He’s giving you a hickey. 

But that’s not the significant part. The significant part is that Chris is marking what’s his. You moan loudly at the thought. 

Chris looks up as the noise leaves your mouth. His lips part slightly and his pupils widen. “ _God_ , you’re absolutely gorgeous.” He places his large hands on your hips and runs them up and down your sides, every once in a while grazing the exposed skin between your top and skirt. “And this goddamn little outfit. I wanted to tear it off you the moment you walked in.” 

So that was why he gave you such an odd look when you walked in. Wondering how many other things like this you’ve worn have affected him too, your body flares up. 

“So do it now,” you whisper in his ear. You roll your hips against his, feeling his forming erection through his dress pants. Before you can make another sound, Chris’s hands are cupping your ass under your skirt and he’s hoisting you up. He carries you to his bedroom and practically throws you down on the bed, his darkened eyes never once leaving your face. 

Chris shoos Dodger out of the room and undoes his tie as he closes the door. As soon as his tie is off, he throws it to the other side of the room and pounces on the bed like an animal lunging at its prey. He grabs your thighs and pulls you toward him. Pressing a quick, chaste kiss to your lips, he tugs your top off. You lightly smirk when you see his eyes widen because he’s realized you’re not wearing a bra. 

“Please tell me you at least have panties on.” 

You give Chris a small but smug smile, tapping his nose lightly. “That’s like a gift without wrapping paper.” 

Chris retaliates by spreading your legs apart and rubbing his hard bulge against you, saying in the exact same tone, “You saying you got something special for me?”

His Boston accent is starting to creep up in his words. You really shouldn’t find it so hot, but it makes your insides coil in the best way possible. Unable to form any coherent words, you let out an affirming noise to answer his question. 

Chris begins a trail of wet kisses down your chest, starting from your collar. One of his hands comes up to tweak one of your nipples and the other rests firmly on your hip to keep you from squirming too much. You’ve imagined almost this exact scenario more times than you can count, but what you’ve imagined in your fantasies doesn’t hold a candle against reality. Especially the coarse facial hair tickling and brushing against your skin. 

It’s only heavy pants that come out at first, but as Chris’s soft lips move closer to your navel, soft moans begin to make their way out of your mouth. The hand on your hip tightens its grip and you know your noises only increase his arousal. 

The hand previously teasing your breasts finds its way to your skirt zipper. Chris undoes the zipper with one hand and then pulls the skirt down, tossing it to the side just as he had with his tie earlier. 

“Time to open my present,” Chris murmurs, the arousal clear in his voice. He spreads your legs apart and swiftly pulls down your tiny thong before he has time to truly look at it, letting out a groan from deep inside his chest. “Fuck, look at you baby. So pretty.”

You don’t know what hits harder, Chris calling you baby or the feeling of his tongue swiping a long stripe right over your entrance a second later. Your hands fly out to grip his head as you let out a whine. 

“Wait–wait, Chris,” you say through ragged breaths. His head shoots up. You can feel the blush forming on your cheeks as you shyly try to bring up what you want. “I was kinda hoping that uh– I… I could suck your cock?” 

You’ve been waiting for this for so long. Not even just for months, but even longer than you’ve known Chris. He was your first celebrity crush and you’ll be damned if you’re in his bed and don’t get the chance to suck his dick. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Chris groans, but he still shifts his position on the bed. He opts to sit on the edge of the bed, so you’re able to slide down to your knees in front of him. However, it’s less of a slide and more of a drop. Absolutely no grace to it and with pure desperation. The wood is hard and your knees are sure to kill you tomorrow but it’s something you’re willing to deal with. Chris starts to unbuckle his belt but you push his hand away. 

“Let me do the work here,” you say, as sultry as you can manage. 

Slowly, you undo his belt and pull down the zipper of his pants. You choose to not pull Chris’s pants or briefs down, because you’ve fantasized about sucking him off while he’s dressed before. Sticking your hand into his underwear, you stroke the length of his hard cock. It’s certainly not the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done, but it makes you blush. Probably because you figured Chris was big but just… _Jesus_. 

Despite wanting to savor every second you can and burn the memory of it all into your brain, because who knows if Chris wants this to happen again, you want to suck his cock really bad. Scratch that, actually, you _need_ to. You pull his cock out of his briefs and as far as dicks go, it’s pretty fucking gorgeous. Long, thick as fuck, and a flushed red head. You can’t help but inhale sharply. 

“Wait, we need a condom,” Chris says. He moves, ready to get up, and then stills. He lets out a frustrated groan. “ _F_ _uck_ , I used them all up.” 

You don’t comment that the reason he has no condoms left is because he was going out and sleeping with strangers when he could have been fucking you. You also neglect to mention that you actually have condoms, unused ones from your time with Jason, but they most _definitely_ will be too small. 

“It’s fine,” you respond, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and nuzzling your face into his crotch. You can’t help but admire him. “I’m on birth control and I'm sure you're clean. Besides, we’re already making one bad decision, what’s another?” 

Disregarding the slightly sour look Chris gives you, you raise your head to the tip and begin to lap at it with light kitten licks. One of Chris’s hands fly out to rest on your head as a deep, guttural groan leaves his mouth. You give his cock a few strokes as you plant kisses along it. You wish you could spend an eternity on your knees, worshipping his cock, but you know the time isn’t now. 

So you lower your head and try to take as much of it as you can. Your gag reflex probably isn’t as trained as others who have blown Chris, a result of your inexperience and his size, but you’re still able to take the majority of him. 

“My _god_ ,” Chris croaks. You look up at him, hollowing your cheeks and looking him directly in his darkened blue eyes. Clearly your enthusiasm makes up for your lack of skill. Chris isn’t the first guy you’ve blown, but he’s by far the largest. “This is better than I ever imagined. You look so fucking good around my cock.”

You’re not entirely convinced you’re not dreaming. This is years of dreams and fantasies built up coming true. Not even just that, it’s finally, after _all_ this time, having the man you love. And him loving you in return. 

You pull off his cock with a lewd pop. “Talk to me,” you say, giving the thick shaft a slow stroke. “Tell me what you’ve imagined.” You dive back down onto his cock, almost swallowing it whole. The hand Chris has on your head fists whatever hair it can as he reveals the fantasies he’s had.

“Goddamn, baby. I’ve thought about you sucking my cock a lot. All perfect and good for me on your knees. And you letting me fuck your face. Always thought you were such a pretty crier, sweetheart. Would look even better crying around my cock as I fuck your face. Make you gag on it until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

You’re already soaking wet but the white hot heat pools in your stomach. You had hoped Chris was a talker and you’re not disappointed at all. You return to lavishing the head of his cock with kisses and teasing sucks. “What else?” You ask, batting your eyelashes. 

Chris quivers under your touch. “Wanna eat you out someday. Bury my face in your pretty pussy until my name is the only thing you can remember. And then I’ll fuck you so good. Until you’re moaning and screaming and come on my cock.” Chris pauses, lifting your head up with the hand fisted in your hair. “You want that too, baby?”

Chris looks absolutely wrecked. You can only imagine how _you_ look with your spit-smeared, swollen lips and flushed cheeks. 

“I do,” you gasp. “Fuck I do, I _do_ , Daddy.” There’s a sudden silence when both you and Chris realize what you’ve said. His eyes go wide. It’s not that the thought had never crossed your brain, because it had. But something inside of you was almost shameful about it and told you it was wrong no matter how much you wanted to call him that. 

“Say it again,” Chris demands in a low rumble, the richness of his accent acutely prominent. He tugs your hair, eyes focused like he’s the predator to your prey. Like he wants to eat you alive. You let out an involuntary whimper. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Chris is hoisting you up and dropping you on the bed. He clambers over to you with an absolutely carnal look on his face. 

“I didn’t think you would be into that,” you say, slightly amused. 

Chris plants a kiss on your neck as he grinds his thick cock against you, the cold metal of his belt buckle sending a shiver through you. “Baby, how could I not be when it’s you saying it?” 

You bring a hand up to rest on Chris’s chest, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” 

“You’re right.” Chris shucks off his clothing as fast as possible. You can’t help but stare. You’ve always known he had a great body, but being allowed to see what others don’t is something special. Chris is muscular and well-toned all over, despite not needing to be in shape for Cap anymore. You can’t help but ponder if he would be comfortable enough to let you worship his body one day. 

Your eyes drop to Chris’s cock, bobbing proud and hard. “I need that in me. Like, yesterday.” 

Chris chuckles and drops his head to nip your ear. “You gonna ask nicely?” 

One of his hands finds its way to your clit, teasing you. 

“Please give me your cock,” you beg, increasingly desperate with each word as his fingers work you. Chris slips a thick finger inside you and you let out a choked out moan. “Daddy, please fuck me. I need it so bad.” 

“Gladly,” he responds, just a little too pleased with himself. 

Chris lines himself up, perfectly slotting himself against your body, and slides in. You let out a whine at the thick intrusion as Chris cages you in, hands coming to rest on your hips. The grip of his fingers is so hard they’re digging into your flesh. You bury your face in Chris’s shoulder and the scent of him is intoxicating.

“ _Daddy_ ,” you gasp, as Chris bottoms out. It feels like you’re being split in half in the best possible way. Your arms wrap around Chris’s torso as he pulls his cock out and snaps his hips forward, slamming it in again. He’s on the rougher side of gentle and you wonder if he knows it’s just how you like it. 

“You’re so tight, baby girl,” Chris purrs. You clench even harder around him at the pet name and he groans. You’ve never felt fuller in your life. Not with Jason and not even when you tried using as many of your fingers as you could. Chris’s thrusting speeds up, making you cry out in pleasure. “You like that, sweetheart? You like being fucked by Daddy’s big dick?”

He slams into you again, hitting your G-spot, prompting all words you were going to say to instantaneously disappear. All you can manage in response is a loud, affirming moan. 

“Fuck, baby, I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” Chris groans. “And I'm not young like you are. Can only get it up once.” 

“Mmm, you wanna come in me, Daddy? Fill me up?” 

Chris lets out an animalistic growl and bites your neck, thrusting _hard_. You were never one to be into the kind of possessive stuff but seeing Chris like this is fucking hot as hell. “Fucking _Christ_ , I didn’t know you were such a dirty little thing, baby girl.”

His thrusts become erratic and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. In pure desperation, you move your hips almost in tandem with Chris’s, his length pushing almost inhumanly deep inside you. You don’t even care that it will be over so soon; you’ve been looking forward to this for such a long time. 

“I need your come Daddy,” you whine desperately. “I need it. I need it!” 

“Gonna give you all my come, you little slut. You’re my slut, aren’t you?” His voice is deep and growly and you could live in it forever. 

“I’m your slut, Daddy.”

Chris gives you a sharp grin, pleased, but then shakes his head. He pecks you on the lips. “I’m sorry, baby girl, I didn’t catch that.” He acts smug but you know his resolve is cracking and his own orgasm is quickly approaching.

“I’m your slut, Daddy!” You yell, as Chris thrusts into you hard. 

Burying your head in Chris’ shoulder, your orgasm comes crashing over you like a tidal wave. You certainly don't black out because you can still feel and hear, but your vision is completely blurry and you swear you see stars as you clench down on his cock.

It can’t be more than five seconds later that Chris’s hips stutter against your own, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you. You can feel the warm seed flood you as his grunts turn to ragged breaths. Your vision begins to return and the vision in front of your eyes is a fucking masterpiece. You can’t help but pull Chris down into a kiss. One of all tongue and teeth but nonetheless a kiss. 

“That’s the hardest I’ve come in forever,” Chris says as he pulls away from your lips. He lightly chuckles as he slides out of you, leaving you empty, and then collapses beside you. The two of you lay there for a minute or so breathing heavily “Lemme help you clean up.”

And he does just that. Chris fetches water for you both from the kitchen and then helps you into the adjacent bathroom. He wipes you down with a wet washcloth and forces you to brush your teeth. When you return to his bedroom, he’s unmade the bed. You collapse down into it and pull the covers over you. Chris returns a few moments later and climbs into bed alongside you. 

He pulls you into his arms, allowing you to snuggle into his chest. 

“I love you,” you mumble sleepily. 

A hand comes to rest on the side of your face. Chris presses a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, baby.” 

You drift to sleep not long after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I hope you are all doing well during these rough times. I love you all and am so thankful you're continuing to read this. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

The other side of the bed is empty when your eyes flicker open. Muscles aching, you can’t help but groan as you sit up. A loud, rumbling sound comes from your stomach. It’s probably a good idea to get some food in you. However, despite the events of the previous night, you figure you should put some clothes on before you do so. 

You’re too sore and lazy to go grab clothing from your own bedroom, so you swipe one of Chris’s t-shirts. It’s a plain blue shirt and Chris is so much larger than you that it comes down to your thighs. It’s basically a dress on you, meaning you can forgo wearing pants. 

Once the shirt is on, you pad out of Chris’s bedroom and down to the kitchen. You stop in surprise when you realize Chris is already there. He’s in nothing but a tight white t-shirt, definitely a few sizes too small, and blue boxers briefs. Regardless of what you two got up to the night before, your cheeks heat up a little. 

“Hi,” you say, mousy and voice almost cracking. Like you’re nervous. You don’t like that one bit. You walk further into the kitchen and head to the cabinet to grab cereal, keeping your eyes off Chris. 

Chris gives you a small, stilted smile from his seat on one of the chairs at the table. “Hey. I figured I would let you sleep. Y’know… late night.” 

If you were wearing pants you would shove your hands in the pockets, because it’s as if there’s a sign above Chris’s head saying “things are about to get really awkward” in flashing neon lights. 

Chris is staring at you and his face is blank. With no expression present, his face is an impenetrable wall guarding his thoughts and emotions. Anything, even just the twitch of an eye or the scrunching of his nose, would help. You’ve always been good at reading people but when Chris puts up his walls you’re left with nothing to scrutinize. 

You realize you haven’t answered him. “Um, thanks.” 

He doesn’t reply, instead taking a sip from his coffee. In another room, Dodger walks around, the sound of his nails on the wood thundering in contrast to the silent kitchen. A bird chirps outside the window. You glance at Chris quickly, out of the side of your eye. You attempt to go about finishing getting your breakfast, but it’s just too difficult. Every sound you make is too loud for your ears. Your heart begins thumping in your chest.

You can’t do this. 

“I can’t do this!” You snap. Your body jerks around and you come face to face with Chris. “I can’t just tiptoe around you, pretending last night didn’t happen! It did and you have to face that, Christopher. It was a real event and it happened! You consented and _I_ consented and we both wanted it. If you don’t want it to happen again, then _fine_ , whatever. But you sure as hell made it seem like you did last night!” 

By the time you finish speaking, you’re out of breath. Chris gives a look you’ve come to know all too well. The furrowed brows and the pursed lips and the stern, disappointed eyes are burned in your brain. But, there’s something new this time. Something you haven’t seen in this look before; almost… concern?

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re sixteen,” he says, deep but quietly. 

“I’m legal in the state of Massachusetts,” you respond, firm. He goes to open his mouth. “And turning seventeen soon.” You’ve always been persistent and you won’t back down from this fight just because Chris feels guilty about something you both wanted. 

“I feel like I hurt you.” It’s even quieter than before, barely a whisper. So soft and shameful. Chris’s shoulders drop and you can almost see the guilt weighing them down. His face falls into his hands. Your body shifts into autopilot, moving towards Chris without consulting your brain. Your arms are around his shoulder before you even realize, hands cradling his head. His hair tickles your face as you nestle your face into it, but you don’t care. You kiss the top of his head like he’s done so many times for you. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” you say, “not one bit.”

“But I–.” 

“I wanted that. I wanted it _so_ bad. For a long time.” Chris makes a choked noise and you don’t know if he’s crying but he’s so clearly distraught that _you_ want to cry. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” His voice cracks. “So much.”

“I promise you didn’t hurt me. Not one bit. Physically _or_ emotionally.”

“You promise you’ll tell me if I do?”

A small smile creeps onto your face. “Are you saying you want this to happen again?”

“Yeah,” Chris responds, affirming yet soft. “I want this to be a thing. I _know_ it’s wrong, but I just–. I … I love you so much.”

You pull your arms away and swing your legs over to move into his lap. You knock your forehead against his and just stay like that, staring into his crystal blue eyes. Your heart leaps in your chest when you realize you can finally touch him like this. You can _finally_ express all the ways you love him. 

Chris presses his plush lips against yours delicately. The kiss is innocent enough to force your whole world to melt away. You can taste the coffee he inhales every morning and hope your morning doesn’t set him off. You giggle and smile lightly against his lips. 

“What’s got you all giggly?”

“Nothing,” you say, dragging the ending consonant out. Chris just shakes his head fondly. One of his hands settles on your hip and you lean into his warm touch. The expanse of his hand takes up so much skin. You really can’t get over how much larger he is than you. You probably never will. 

“You know,” Chris starts, eyes raking up and down your form, “I really like seeing you in my clothing.”

“Good to know. That just indirectly gave me free range of your wardrobe.” 

He rolls his eyes, but there’s no real negative connotation to it. 

“But,” he says, his other hand snaking under your shirt, “you know what I like even better? You, wearing nothing.”

“You’re a menace,” you giggle, trying to keep yourself from shivering at the contact of his hand. “I haven’t even had my coffee yet.” 

Chris makes a humming noise, leaning in to drop a kiss on your neck. You can’t help but shudder at the light tingle of his beard. “You know that thing I mentioned last night,” he says against your neck, hot breath ghosting over it. “Can I do that now, sweetheart? Can I eat you out?”

The sound that comes out of your mouth can only be described as part moan, part splutter. Chris smirks, lifting you onto the table with a single hand. 

“We eat on this table!” You exclaim, despite the heat pooling between your legs. Chris gives you a devious look as his lips curl into a smirk. You lightly slap his shoulder, more playful than anything. “ _F_ _ood,_ Christopher.” 

The world may see Christopher Robert Evans as the human incarnation of a golden retriever but only you know how troublesome he really can be sometimes. 

Chris lets out a huff. Using both hands this time, he effortlessly picks up and deposits you on the counter just a few feet away. “Better?” 

You nod. “Much.”

Chris falls to his knees in front of you. The sight of him reminds you of an angel with his tousled hair, shining blue eyes, and rosy lips. The only thing missing is the golden halo. He smiles up at you and pushes your borrowed shirt up, making the same face he made the night before when he sees you aren’t wearing pants or underwear. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” He says, face entirely serious. You shake your head as Chris flicks his tongue against your clit. Your body stiffens. He swipes his tongue along your entrance and then he dives in. 

“ _Chris_ ,” you cry out in pleasure, the sensation overwhelming. You make a noise, loud and needy. Almost a whine. 

He doesn’t even look up, instead opting to rub circles into your thigh. “That’s not what we agreed on calling me last night, sweetheart.” 

Chris swirls his tongue in a way that makes you want to scream. You bite your tongue so hard you taste the metallic tang of blood. “ _Daddy_ ,” you whimper. At that, he makes a deep, primal sound. Almost a wolfish kind of growl.

You’re not sure what it is or how to describe it, but Chris does something and you swear you see stars. A jolt shoots up your spine and your breath begins to increase. “Fuck, that feels so good.” 

His hands begin to roam and you shudder under his touch. One of Chris’s hands pulls you closer, and he hooks your legs over his shoulders. His beard presses into your skin and you don't care that it’s growing long enough to make him look like a lumberjack because holy _fuck_ , you want his face between your legs as much as possible. It’s scratchy and you’re going to have beard burn but it’s also soft and tingly and when Chris momentarily glances up at you with his beard wet and slick, you think you almost die. You tangle your hands in his hair, trying to keep yourself from collapsing. 

He fucks into you with his tongue and it’s so good you’re on the verge of tears. You can’t control the sounds that come from your mouth, high-pitched and breathy moans. “Daddy I–I… _fuck_ , I’m close.” 

Chris teases your clit with his thumb as he licks into you. He pulls his mouth away to purr, “Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come on Daddy’s face.”

He dives back in and the sensation of that and the words registering in your head, pushes you over the edge. Your body feels like it’s on fire, burning as if hit by lighting, as you ride out your orgasm against Chris’s mouth. As you come down from it, he plants kisses along the insides of your thighs. 

You’re both breathing deep and heavy when you release your grip on his hair. Chris stands up, towering over you once again. The bulge in his briefs pokes your knee and you can’t ignore it. 

“You want some help with that?” You ask, eyeing his erection and the small wet spot covering it. 

“Would be nice.” 

You place a hand on the waistband of his briefs and tug them down, exposing his flushed, hard cock. Chris hisses at the exposure to the cold air but you can tell it’s instantly forgotten once you wrap a hand around his thick length. You swipe your thumb along the head and collect the pre-cum oozing from the tip, stroking your hand along his cock. 

Chris groans and leans down to place a line of kisses down your neck. “Fuck,” he whispers against your neck as you continue to stroke the heated length. You twist your hand in a way you think he’ll like. He lets out a noise telling you he most certainly does. “My _God_ , baby.” 

The hand not wrapped around his cock sneaks under his shirt. Chris doesn’t seem to mind, making a small gasp when your hand comes to palm one of his impressive pecs. You leave the hand there, fingers dancing across his skin, as you increase the speed of your hand on his cock. 

Pumping your hand faster and faster, Chris’s grunts and groans become more audible. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, knocking his forehead against your shoulder, “I’m gonna come.” 

“Come for me, Daddy.” You drag your hand across the heavy weight in your hands just a few more times before Chris’s breath is hitching and he is spilling into your hand. He bucks up into the fist around his cock as he lets out stuttered moans. As he comes down from the high, you can’t help but admire his flushed skin and swollen lips. He keeps his position, face pressed to the crook between your neck and shoulder and shoulders hunched, as his breaths soften. 

“You know,” you say, lightly dragging your nails across his chest,“if there was an award for eating a girl out, you would definitely win.”

It doesn’t really hit you how ridiculous what you’ve said is until Chris retracts his head from its spot against your shoulder and stares at you with wide eyes. Naturally, you’re afraid you’ve weirded him out. But, his lips pull into a tight line, holding back a smile. Chris fails as he begins laughing boisterously. You can’t help but laugh along with him.

Once your laughter has been reduced to stifled giggles a minute or so later, Chris pulls his briefs back up and grabs a napkin from the table to wipe your hand. 

He absentmindedly places a hand on your cheek and presses a kiss against your temple. “I love you,” he mutters. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too.” You bury your face in Chris’s shoulder, the scent of day-old cologne filling your nose, and he leans his head against your own. His skin is hot and sticky with sweat. You don’t care. The only thing you can think of is how after that you can’t imagine a life without him. 

You’ve never been religious, never having been brought up with any kind of faith, but you pray to whatever deity might be up in the sky that Chris never gets taken from you. A maybe, just _maybe_ , you thank whatever is there for bringing you two into each other’s lives. He’s the best thing to ever happen to you. No doubt about it. 

The shrill ring of a phone shakes you out of your trance. It can’t be yours because you know yours is still in the living room from last night, so it has to be Chris’s. He retreats from your touch and walks around the table. 

He picks up his phone and a small smile ghosts across his face when he turns it over. His finger hovers over it for a second, but then he swipes to accept the call. The intrusive noise comes to a halt as Chris puts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Seb,” he says, the smile intact across his face. 

Your heart drops in your chest as your brain tunes out the conversation without hesitation. It’s not a lie you’ve fed Chris, but it’s not the whole truth either. You know you intentionally neglected to tell him you love Sebastian too, but being reminded of the fact so soon is a little jarring. Especially this early in the day. 

Despite having nothing in you, your stomach churns and it feels like you might hurl any second. You swallow thickly. You’ve made your bed and now you have to lie in it. If Chris weren’t in the room, you would throw something at the wall. You always manage to get yourself into situations like this. Logically, you know you’re going to have to tell Chris. No matter how much you wish you didn’t have to. But, the question is when and how. 

You’re brought back to the real world by Chris repeatedly calling your name. You look up to see him smiling brightly. “Did you hear what I said?”

Your body stiffens and you reluctantly shake your head. 

“Seb is coming to visit in a few weeks!” Chris exclaims. His smile explodes into a radiant, boyish grin. 

Jesus fucking Christ. Could this get _any_ worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry, I know it's been over a week since I updated but I think at this point I'm just trying to update between every week and a half to two weeks. The plot really starts to pick up here and I'm excited. I'm also really, really glad Seb is back. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Despite the new development in your life, the next few weeks pass by swiftly. You don’t do much. The most exciting occurrences, and truthfully they’re less exciting and more nerve wracking, are the few times Scott visits. He knows Chris better than anyone and you’re absolutely terrified of the simplest thing giving away your secret. Neither of you mention it, but you’re both relieved when there seems to be no suspicion on Scott’s end after the third time he drops in. 

Chris gathers it’s safe to go out together when even his brother can’t tell anything is up. One day the family gathers at Chris’s mother’s for dinner. You’re paranoid and spend as little time with Chris as possible. It reminds you almost too much of Thanksgiving, during a time when Chris was practically ignoring you. But now, you know when you return home later that night, he’ll be all over you, kissing and cuddling and touching you as much as he can.

Not to mention, you basically move out of your own bedroom. You sleep in Chris’s bed now and you find yourself spending a good amount of your free time in there as well. Of course, you keep your clothing in your bedroom, but items like your laptop and phone charger and school books end up migrating to Chris’s room without either of you even realizing. You hope Chris doesn’t mind it, but if he does he hasn’t voiced any objections so far. You don’t want to monopolize his life. However, the relocation of these objects is a perpetual reminder of the change in your relationship. 

And you should be happy. You should be happier than you’ve _ever_ been. But, you’re not. You can’t possibly be. 

Every time you look at Chris, you’re reminded that you’re basically lying to him. That he thinks there’s no secrets between you but there _is_. The guilt eats away at you day in and day out and it’s only a matter of time until you break. You keep telling yourself you’re just trying to figure out how to breach the subject. You know you aren’t. 

As the day Seb arrives comes closer, the topic of him comes up more often. Whenever Chris brings him up, you feel the bile rising in your throat as your heart starts hammering away in your chest. You have to excuse yourself from dinner twice, each time worrying Chris. The second time it happens, he finds you sobbing into a pillow on his bed and you can’t even bring yourself to make up an excuse. You can only wonder what is running through his head. 

But, being Chris, he holds you in his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead while he strokes your hair. Despite your guilt, his presence and calming voice helps the tears to come to a halt. You fall asleep cuddling that night, wrapped tightly against his chest. He wakes you in the morning with breakfast in bed. After, he kisses you tenderly and even fingers you until you're so sensitive that you cry. 

Now that he’s allowed, Chris treats you even better than before. He’s affectionate in ways he wasn’t able to be before and now even romantic. The guilt begins to consume your mind and body, overtaking every thought you have and every action you make. 

The night before Seb arrives, you’re sitting on the couch with Chris. He’s reading a book while your head rests on his lap, looking up at your phone while you scroll through Twitter and Instagram. Dodger is sitting on the floor by you, playing with his stuffed lion. The atmosphere is calm and peaceful and you don’t want to break it, but the only thing you can think about is Sebastian. More importantly, how you’re literally in love with him and haven’t told Chris yet, despite it being _weeks_ since you confessed your feelings. 

Your heart is pounding, beating in your chest for what has to be at least twenty minutes before you finally work up the courage to talk to him. 

“Chris,” you say meekly. It’s barely more than a whisper. Chris lifts his head from the book in his hands and looks down at you. His face is placid but his lips curl into a light, fond smile. Your stomach lurches. You struggle to avoid grimacing at the feeling and divert your eyes. Looking Chris in the eyes is an arduous task and one you can’t bring yourself to accomplish. 

“Hm?” 

“Can I talk to you about something?” 

His smile disappears. Chris sits up, his brows drawing together “Of course. What is it?” 

It suddenly hits you that this could change everything. He _could_ be happy. But, he could also be indifferent. Or angry. Or even hate you. The possibilities are endless and your breath starts to increase and your heart is like a gong every time it pulses. 

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can collect yourself. 

“I’m going to have to sleep in my own room when Seb comes, right?”

Chris sighs, bemused but doleful. “Unfortunately,” he says. And with that your chance is gone. He glances over at the clock. “It’s late. We should go to sleep.”

You groan, not just because you have to sleep. Sitting up from Chris’s lap, you drape yourself dramatically across his chest. “I don’t want to.” 

Giving you his best sad puppy look, Chris responds, “But I want you in my bed for as long as possible before you’re taken from me.” It’s an unspoken promise of morning fun so immediately you perk up. Chris lifts you up off the couch and you shriek in surprise. He motions Dodger to follow him by nodding towards the hallway. “C’mon, bubba, bed time.” 

Lately, it’s become common for Chris to pick you up and carry you. The size and strength difference between you is kind of a thing. An unspoken thing, but nonetheless a thing. As is customary for your new nightly routine, he carries you to your room so you can change into pajamas and then clean up for bed. 

You grab a pair of pajama shorts, wash your face, brush your teeth, and then make your way to Chris’s room. You steal one of his sleep shirts because they’re softer and smell like him and pull it on while Chris is brushing his teeth. You’re plugging your phone in to charge when Chris arrives back and wraps his arms around you from behind, rolling you onto the bed. He’s on top when your back hits the mattress. Your hands wrap around his neck and Chris holds himself up using his forearms. 

“Why hello,” Chris says, soft and playful. His eyes crinkle a little as his lips curl into a small smile. The lights are still on and it allows the small features of his face to pop out. The way you admire them is almost like you’ve never seen him this close up before. But, you really haven’t. Never in the light and so up close. You can make out the wispy, grey hairs peppering his beard. And the small birthmarks dotted spaciously across his skin. Looking at his eyelashes you can even make out the blonde color of the tips. Chris has always been beautiful and up close he makes your heart flutter in your chest. “You’re staring.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“See something you like?” 

You can’t help but smile. “I do, actually.”

“And what’s that?”

“You.”

Chris hums, a pleased noise. He rests a hand on your cheek and you nuzzle into the warm touch. “As a matter of fact, I happen to like you too.” 

He lowers his head and you raise your own just enough to delicately press your lips against his. His lips part and he kisses you in return, with hot breath and tasting of mint toothpaste. For a chaste kiss, it’s positively intoxicating. You don’t let it stay chaste, however.

You push back hungrily, telling him exactly what you want without saying a word. His tongue presses into your mouth and his bristly beard scratches your cheeks. You settle a hand in his hair, now long enough to be able to pull. An involuntary moan makes its way out of your mouth when Chris lightly nips your bottom lip. 

He pulls away suddenly. “We have to go to sleep.” You must make a face because Chris sighs. 

“ _No_ ,” you whine. You’re not deliberately trying to be a brat, but going to bed means having to sit alone with your thoughts until you fall asleep. Which usually takes quite a long time. And with the guilt eating you up inside, now is _not_ the time to be alone with your thoughts in the silent dark of night. 

“Bed time,” Chris says, deep and stern. His tone is authoritative, basically his Cap voice. The voice he _knows_ will get you to do anything. Not because it turns you on or anything, but because you have a very clear distinction between Chris and Steve and don’t like when they meld together. (And also maybe because you’ve learned when the voice comes out it’s not a good idea to push any further.) 

Deciding to take the safe route and not get in trouble tonight, you comply. You reluctantly settle your arms back by your side, allowing Chris to shut off the lights. The room darkens instantly and you both climb under the sheets. As he does on most nights, Chris tugs you into his chest and tucks your head under his chin. At some point in the night you’ll both probably move apart but it’s a nice way to fall asleep. 

If you even can. You try to block out all the bad thoughts you can, but it’s hard. It takes a long time but sleep finally comes, overtaking your body.

****

The next morning isn’t eventful. When you finally become conscious again, Chris is already awake beside you. With the promise of fun from last night stuck in your head, you stick a hand under the sheets and settle it on his thigh. Unfortunately, the mood is instantly ruined by the realization that Dodger had vomited on the floor at some point in the night. You’re not sure why but at least he’s okay. Chris is grumbling the entire time he cleans up the mess as you take Dodger out to the bathroom. 

You get caught up in trying to finish school work and cleaning the guest room that the day flies by. Before you even realize it’s the late afternoon. Chris comes to get you at a quarter past four. He laughs at the amount of effort you’re putting into making the room look and feel nice for Seb. 

You brush off his comments and hide the fact you’ve been doing it to distract yourself. Busying yourself all day so you didn’t have to talk about the inevitable. But, you know Sebastian is arriving soon. Your throat tightens. You _really_ don’t want to think about that. 

“Take a break,” Chris says. He glances around the room and almost grimaces. “Actually, scratch that. You’re definitely done in here. I don’t think there’s anything else you could possibly clean.” 

Begrudgingly, you follow as he turns around and strolls down the hallway to the kitchen. He motions you to sit down on one of the chairs. “Are you about to lecture me about something?"

“No,” he says as you sit down. His arms wrap around your neck and you immediately lean into his touch. “But, Sebastian is gonna be here soon. And you look stressed so I wanted to ask if anything was wrong. …Is there?” 

Instead of laughing bitterly, because that wouldn’t go over very well, you scrunch your nose. You hope Chris doesn’t see but at this point you don’t really even care if he does. 

“No, of course not,” you lie, trying your best to keep your voice flat. You press a kiss to his bicep, just below where his shirt sleeve ends. “I would tell you if there was.” 

_Great_ , so now you’ve gone from hiding the truth to outwardly lying. What an awesome job you’re doing. 

“Okay, that’s good. I’m glad.” Neither one of you says anything else. Leaning your head against his arm and closing your eyes, you revel in Chris’s touch, trying your best to not think of anything else. The silence is broken when Chris clears his throat a few minutes later. “You know how much I love. But, um, I have to–.” 

Dodger begins to bark and scratch the door at the front door, cutting Chris off. “Somebody wants to go out,” Chris mutters, just barely amused. He presses a quick kiss to the top of your head and frees his arms from your grasp. You lean your head backwards to look at Chris, making a whining noise. He instantly smiles. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He heads out of the kitchen and subtly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to notice, clenches his fist hard enough for his knuckles to go white. With everything else going on in your head, you shake your head and try not to think about it. As soon as you hear the door close shut, you take a deep breath, promising yourself everything will be fine. Okay, even. Hopefully. 

You stand up and grab yourself a glass of water and sip it slowly. Leaning against the fridge, you press your forehead to the cool exterior of the metal door. 

Dodger starts barking and his intensity and volume grows by the second. It doesn’t bother you until you hear the roll of tires on the ground. Your body freezes. Within a second, your heart rate is speeding up, quickly becoming a pounding hammer. It’s too loud. Way too loud. The room starts spinning and your vision goes blurry. Your breathing is all wrong, coming out in short gasps. Your knees lock, ready to give out any second. Stumbling over to the counter, you steady yourself on it, hands gripping the edge so tight you might break a finger. 

The car’s engine comes to a halt. The door opens and then slams shut. Seb laughs as Dodger attacks him. There’s voices, jovial and laughing. The front door opens and two pairs of footsteps walk into the house. Dodger runs in, darting away before anyone can catch him. Someone calls your name. It all happens too fast. 

Sebastian enters the kitchen first, but you can barely look up at him. Your head moves only centimeters. Out of the corner of your eye he flashes an infamous Sebastian Stan grin as Chris walks in behind him. 

“Do I not get a hug?” Seb asks, opening his arms. 

Your legs are wobbly, so you race over to him before either man notices. Instantly, your arms are wrapped around his torso and your face is buried in his chest. Hopefully he doesn’t see your pained expression. Your fingers grapple for something to hold onto, finding his jacket. You fist whatever fabric you can and hold on for dear life. 

“Hey,” Seb says, tucking his face into your hair. His arms envelop you. “I’ve missed you.” 

For a moment, you allow him to become your entire world. Everything else gets tuned out, even Chris and all your worries from the past few weeks. Especially the one specific worry regarding Sebastian himself.

Because Seb is here. He’s here and you're in his arms. His cologne clouds your nose and your head is pressed to his firm chest. One of his hands comes to rest on the back of your head, tightening his hold on you, and the weight of it grounds you. He speaks again and your brain is unable to comprehend the words, but you hear his voice. It’s soft and grounding and even though you can’t hear the words, you recognize the warmth of his voice. 

You focus on Sebastian and Sebastian only, because he’s familiar and feels like home and the only person other than Chris who can calm your anxiety. Slowly, the world around you returns. Your vision is no longer blurry, your legs have stopped shaking, and you can almost comprehend what Seb is saying. 

He’s saying something about “birthday” and “woman”. You catch only the tail end of it. “...So of course, I had to come visit before the big seventeen.” 

Chris laughs. “It’s just seventeen."

Seb pulls away from the hug but keeps an arm on your shoulder, hugging you close as he turns to face Chris. He gasps dramatically. “Just seventeen?” He says, incredulous. “You’ve got one more year before she’s legally an adult! One more year till the baby bird flies out of the nest into the world! Seventeen is the last year of being a kid, Chris.” 

Sebastian is not only right, but his words hit hard. You’re almost an adult. You have to start acting like one. And not telling Chris the truth isn’t exactly a very grownup move. You have to tell him, soon. Not only is it the right thing to do, but not telling him is selfish and childish. Maybe it won’t be today, but it’ll be soon. You just have to find the right words first. 

Leaning into Seb’s hold, you back him up. “Yeah! I’m practically an adult. Just a little over a year to go.” Internally, you cringe a little. Knowing the reminder that you’re basically still a kid is going to hit Chris hard. The pretense of everything being normal is needed though so you mask the feeling. 

But, Chris rolls his eyes and shakes his head in false exasperation. The look he gives Sebastian after is incredibly soft and fond. If that’s how Chris looks at Seb, you can only imagine how you look at him. 

Chris walks over to you two, clapping Seb at the shoulder. He smiles, open-mouthed and so, _so_ bright. You don’t think anything could dim that smile. “I’ve missed you, man.” 

“Me too,” you say, voice delicate and sincere. You can almost hear the smile in your voice. Sebastian gives your arm a light squeeze and you lean your head against his shoulder. 

Despite your stupid, selfish decision, this is the perfect life. Just you and your favorite men in the entire world. As impossible as it is, you want to live like this forever. You cross your fingers behind your back and plead for nothing to go wrong while Seb is here. Knowing the three of you, something probably will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe we're already at chapter 10! It feels like just yesterday I started writing this fic. By the way, things really are going to start picking up here and I would advise looking out for small details (which means both foreshadowing and real life references). Enjoy!

With all the time apart, you’ve forgotten how physically affectionate Seb can be when he’s comfortable with someone. Nothing like Chris, of course. However, Chris is basically his own category in terms of physical affection. He’s certainly the most affectionate person you’ve ever met, never hesitating to touch you even before the change in your relationship. You’re used to Chris at this point, but you haven’t seen Seb in forever and your body instinctively leans into every touch. You’re not going to complain about it. Not at all. But, it’s harder than it seems to not flush every time your fingers share even the barest brush. 

The three of you sit in the living room for a while, catching up. Both you and Chris do a good job of leaving out any details that could give away something has changed. Sebastian and Chris are on the couch, not nearly enough space between them, each man with his respective legs spread apart, their knees knocking into each other's. Maybe it’s just because your face is at level with their thighs, a result of you sitting with Dodger on the floor, but something about the image in front of you is incredibly attractive. You would give anything to climb into one of their laps. Or both. 

Sometime around six Chris announces he’s hungry. You order food from a local Italian place that you and Chris have been to a few times. You go with Seb to pick it up. Chris allows you to drive, which is nice because he usually doesn’t. Which is absolutely ridiculous because you’re an extremely conscientious driver. Certainly, more than he is. 

The food is ready by the time you arrive. When you get to the cashier to pay, Seb pulls his wallet out of his pocket. You immediately push his hand away, sending the wallet flying across the floor. You stare at one another for a few seconds and then burst into giggles. As Sebastian picks up his wallet, you hand your card to the cashier before he can tell you not to pay. Of course, you’re using the credit card linked to Chris’s account though. 

As you pay, you can feel eyes on you. You know they’re not Sebastian’s, but you notice a waiter standing a few feet away eyeing you as you put the card away. He looks to be in his mid-twenties and is decently attractive. You’re not good with strangers so you flush under your gaze, averting your eyes to the floor. Slowly, he walks toward you. 

“Hey,” the guy says. He flashes you a confident smile and your stomach drops. You don’t want him to hit on you but you also don’t want to tell him you already have someone in your life because then Seb will get suspicious. 

Out of your peripheral vision, you notice Sebastian’s head shoot up. His face sours and, like the life savior he is, puts a hand on your back. The waiter’s eyes give a sweeping glance up your body and his smile turns into a smirk. 

“We should go,” Seb says, his voice deep and thick. The hand not on your back curls into a tight fist. He grabs the bag with the food and practically pushes you out of the restaurant, eyes focused ahead as he stalks toward the car. 

“Thanks,” you croak out. Your voice is almost too dry for the word to come out. Seb’s hand is a heavy weight on your back, the heat of it tangible even through the fabric of your shirt and sweater. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles. His jaw clenches. “I didn’t need to see that guy hit on you.” You don’t say anything else because Seb’s expression is almost smoldering. His hand drops from your back as he enters the car. Your movement into the driver’s seat is slow, your brain and body attempting to catch up to what just occurred. 

The first few minutes of the car ride back home are silent and tense. Your brain keeps replaying the moment, trying to understand it. You stop the car at a red light and Seb fiddles with the volume button on the radio. Attempting to ease the tension, you bring up Dodger’s little episode from earlier in the morning. Your voice shakes a little but by the time you get to the end of the story, about how annoyed Chris was, Seb has returned to his usual self. He even laughs a little, the sound of it warming your heart. 

The encounter at the restaurant is nearly forgotten by the time you arrive back home. Like you do with most things that bother you, you push it to the back of your mind and focus on the present conversation. Chris has a Patriots game on when you walk inside the house. You shake your head. 

“I still don’t understand football,” you say to Seb. He sets the food on the dining room table and calls Chris over.

“It’s such an odd game,” he replies. You let out an amused snort. Chris shuts off the game but you know he’s going to watch the rest of it as soon as he gets the chance. 

“You two trash-talking my game?” Chris asks as he walks into the dining room, arms crossed. 

“ _No_ ,” Seb drawls sarcastically. 

You let out an amused breath. “We would never!” 

Dinner is pleasant. The food is good and the conversation even better. You ask Seb about Endings, Beginnings and he, in turn, asks Chris about Defending Jacob. The topic then shifts to Chris being in talks for the Little Shop of Horrors remake and somehow that turns into an odd discussion about The Crucible, which you had to read for your English class. 

You feel at _home._ It doesn’t matter that you’re physically inside of the house you spend most of your time in. Because your home isn’t four walls and a roof over your head. It’s just being with Chris and Sebastian. You smile and laugh more than you have in a long time. Chris must notice because he grabs your hand under the table at one point and squeezes, giving you a proud smile. His grip doesn’t falter until you pull away to use the restroom.

Sometime around eleven, Seb goes to bed. He’s had a long day so you get his bags and show him to the guest room. He kisses your cheek before you leave the room, chaste and soft, but the best you’ll get from him. If you were bolder you would have turned your cheek to press your lips against his. But you’re not, so you’re left with a tingling reminder of what you can’t have. 

You try your hardest to not press your fingers to the spot until you’re back in your bedroom. You don’t go to bed, instead opting to watch some Netflix on your bed while Chris, presumably, finishes watching the football game. A little over an hour later, as you’re halfway through an episode of Tiger King, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. 

“Come in,” you say in a soft voice. You take out your AirPods and look up to see Chris walking in. He closes the door and strolls over to your bed, sitting down beside you. You can feel a talk coming so you close your laptop and set it aside. 

“Hey,” he says. Chris pulls you into a hug from behind. It’s unexpected and you giggle softly as your body thumps against his chest. He tucks his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your neck. “You happy to have Seb here?”

You don’t answer immediately, opting to stare at the wall ahead of you. “I am,” you finally answer after the silence feels too long. 

Chris smiles against your neck. “I’m glad, sweetheart.” 

One of his hands is settled on the comforter next to your thigh. You grab it, interlacing your fingers. His hand is warm, a pleasant contrast to your currently cold one. The crickets are chirping in the grass and bushes outside. The faint roar of a car engine gets louder and louder until it speeds away down the road, becoming a faint hum in the distance. You lean into Chris’s hold on you and let out a deep breath, taking in the moment. 

Chris takes in a sharp breath and lets it out quickly. Instantly you know he’s going to start speaking and it reminds you of why he came into your room in the first place. He wants to talk. And talking doesn’t mean just a regular conversation with him. It means talking about something he deems essential enough to have a serious talk with you. You two haven’t had one of these forever. 

Immediately your brain goes into overdrive, thinking of every possible thing that’s happened lately that could warrant this discussion. Every little thing from not changing the sheets on your bed to leaving your dishes on the table after meals flash through your mind. And then, of course, the elephant in the room that you try to ignore as much as possible. The pit in your stomach makes a reappearance. You try to take a steady breath but with the breakage of the, former, calm atmosphere you can’t. 

“I need to tell you something.” The words spill out of your mouth before your head catches up to the moment. You acknowledge the way Chris’s head shoots up as the panic sets in his face, but your mouth is moving too fast to stop. “And maybe you’ll be really mad at me, I don’t know. But I really need to say this to you and if you hate me, I’m really, really sorry but I just couldn’t keep this any longer. I mean, I’ve basically been lying to you for the past month. At first, it wasn’t intentional but then when I realized I was lying, I still didn’t tell you. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. And now I have to tell you because I feel bad and I started talking without thinking.” 

You haven’t rambled like that in a long time. It was your nervous tick as a child, the anxiety taking full control of your body and word vomiting everywhere. You managed to get control of it a few years ago, but apparently it’s back in town again. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Chris soothes. He lunges forward to plant himself in front of you, sitting awkwardly on his legs. The thump of your heart slows at his voice. “Whatever it is, it’s gonna be fine. I love you. We’ll get through this together. I mean, I don’t think it can be any worse than what I came in here for in the first place.” 

Your eyes narrow. “What?”

“You go first.”

“But–.” Chris shoots you his typical look. “ _Fine_.”

“Thank you.”

You pull your knees to your chest, hugging them, and attempt to stop your stomach from lurching. Your gaze drops to the comforter below you, eyes focusing on the details of every stitch. One of the threads is coming undone. You never noticed that before. “So, um, you know last night when I said I wanted to talk to you?” 

Chris nods. “Yeah. You asked me about having to sleep in here.” 

“That’s not what I actually wanted to say.” You pick at the loose thread but one of Chris’s hands pushes your hand away as if to say ‘don’t do that’. “And when you said a while back that you thought I had a crush on Sebastian?” 

Chris is incredibly intelligent. One of the brightest people you’ve ever met despite the occasional man-child/frat boy vibes he gives off. But, he doesn’t seem to be getting the hint when he nods again, eyebrows furrowed. For such an insightful and intelligent man he seems to be pretty dense about this. 

You begin bouncing your right leg. It’s a wonder that even after all this time Chris manages to make you nervous when you need to tell him something important. You swallow uneasily and hug your legs as close to your chest as possible, resting your chin on your knees. 

“I love Seb,” you mumble. It’s so quiet you can barely hear the words. If you didn’t feel your mouth moving you wouldn’t have even known you said anything. You fix your eyes on your feet, avoiding Chris’s gaze. Your nail polish is chipping. You should probably redo it soon. 

“Sweetheart, I’m going to need you to speak up.” 

“I love Sebastian.” Your voice cracks at his name but your brain barely skims over the thought because the words start pouring out at a rapid pace. “I’m in love with him. And that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I love you both. Equally. Not more one than the other. I– I guess that makes me polyamorous? I don’t know. But, I love you. And him. And I really hope you’re not mad because I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I was too scared. I feel so bad about it because I was technically lying to you but I didn’t know how you were going to react and it _really_ freaked me out. And if you are mad at me and hate me, I’m sorry.”

The voluntary bouncing of your right leg turns into involuntary shaking as a tear develops in your eye. You blink it away, refusing to make eye contact with Chris. He breathes deeply, in and out, but says nothing. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking. He places a finger on your chin, lifting it up. Unfortunately, you’re forced to look at his face. 

“I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that.” His lips curly slightly at the edges, almost as if Chris is fighting back a smile. You’re not sure what exactly is going on in that brain of his but it certainly isn’t as bad as you thought. You’re a little confused and you must make a face because Chris chuckles. He moves his fingers from under your chin to cup your cheek. “I’m glad.”

Baffled, you pull your head back. “ _Huh_?” 

“I love him too, baby. I’ve been in love with him for a long time now.”

Your brain short circuits, allowing nothing other than bewildered, sputtering noises to come out of your mouth. It doesn’t make sense but it simultaneously does. _Everything_ suddenly makes sense. It had always been right in front of your eyes, even before you physically met them, and you didn’t see it until now. 

“I’m so _stupid_ ,” you groan. Your face falls into your hands. “How did I not see it? It’s so obvious now but– ugh, _god_.” 

“It’s actually Chris,” he retorts. Rolling your eyes, you jab him with your elbow. His face softens and he scoots closer to you. “Y’know, I actually came in here to ask you about what happened when you guys were getting the food earlier. Seb told me about it while you were taking Dodger out.” 

“What about it?” Your mind brings back how Chris said what you were going to say couldn’t possibly be worse than what he was going to say. You’re instantly a hundred times more interested. 

“It was an offhand comment,” Chris says, “but he said some waiter was about to flirt with you. Gave you a once-over and smirked at you.

“Yeah. And?”

“But you don’t want anyone else, do you? Just me, right?” You think that’s it, but then Chris grins at you. It’s wolfish, predatory, and just a little devious. Nothing like it has ever even flickered across his face since you’ve known him. There’s a beat of silence before Chris speaks again. “...And Seb.”

Your cheeks heat up but you nod slowly, just a little ashamed. Chris makes a humming noise, waiting for a verbal response. “And Seb,” you admit. 

The only possible thing that could have been going through Chris’s head earlier is that he was embarrassed about asking if you want to be with Sebastian. If you have feelings for him too. Which in retrospect is simultaneously embarrassing and hilarious. You were frightened to tell Chris for _weeks_ and he brought up a question of similar nature in mere hours. 

“Sweetheart, I know he wants you too. He looks at you like you’re his entire world.”

You scoff. Chris has to be pretty damn oblivious to not see what you and basically the rest of the world sees. “Chris, he looks at _you_ like you hung the moon and the stars.” He rolls his eyes. “Seb gets this starry-eyed look. His gaze lingers just a little too long. And he always tries to hold back this endearingly _stupid_ ittle smile that always ends up there anyway.” 

“I know that smile,” Chris says. He smiles fondly, eyes gazing down. His mind has to be pulling up old memories. “It _is_ endearingly stupid.”

You giggle quietly. Laying your head in Chris’s lap, you sigh. “I want him,” you lament, voice quiet and sad. 

“I want him too, sweetheart. But, I think he’s too scared to do anything.” 

Chris cards his fingers through your hair. A feeling not unlike the panicked, shamed one of the past few weeks forms in your stomach. It’s not the same though, but it's similar, coming over you alongside a wave of sorrow. 

“More than you were?”

Chris swallows so thickly you can hear it from your position on his lap. “Much.”

He lightly scratches your scalp and your body shivers at the contact. You can’t help but let out a pleased hum. It sounds almost like a cat’s purr and Chris chuckles. Looking up at him, your eyes lock. Reaching out, you place a hand on his cheek. He places an innocent kiss on your palm. “Can you stay with me tonight? We can just say I had a bad night. _P_ _lease_?”

The answer is going to be no. You’re well aware. But it never hurts to ask. Chris removes your palm from his face and places it on your chest. He shifts your head off his lap as he slides away. 

“Baby, you know I can’t.” He climbs off the bed and stands up, stretching his legs. 

“Please?” After all the honesty of the night and the fact that Chris was barely worried by something that had been troubling you for weeks, you just want to spend the night in his arms. It takes a few seconds but you realize exactly what will get him to say yes. You prepare your best sad puppy look for Chris. “ _Please_ , Daddy?”

Chris groans loudly and his eyes darken ever so slightly. You know how weak the name makes him, how much power it holds. You use that word and he’ll do _anything_ for you. 

“Fine. But let me go ruffle up my bed a little so it at least looks like I spent _some_ of the night in there.” You smile, satisfied with yourself, as Chris walks out of your room. You clamber off the bed to turn off the lights and then climb under the covers, awaiting Chris’s return. 

He comes back a few minutes later in boxers and a t-shirt. Chris curls up beside you, pulling the sheets so far up they almost cover your face. You snicker and then turn your head to press a kiss to wherever your lips land. They land on his jaw, which isn’t so bad.

“Love you so much, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your ear, wrapping an arm around your waist. His breath is hot and minty. 

“I love you too,” you respond sleepily. 

Sleep comes a while later. For the first time, you don’t feel guilty when both Chris and Sebastian appear in your dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry about not posting last week. I didn't want to rush writing and end up with a crappy chapter. Hope you enjoy this chapter! :) Love you all!!!!

When you wake in the morning, sometime after nine, your face is pressed against Chris’s chest and there’s an erection poking your hip. Which means your time of awakening is kind of perfect. You _thorougly_ enjoy beginning your day with sex. Or even giving a blowjob. Or handjob. You really have no preference. 

You poke Chris in the side to see if he’s awake. He’s not and barely even stirs. You take the opportunity to have some fun. 

Placing a hand on the tent in his briefs, you cup his erection. The fabric is tight around him and you can feel the heat of his cock through his briefs. Kneading it, you place a line of kisses down his neck. Reminded of the fact you can’t leave visible marks, you do a very good job of _not_ giving him any hickies. 

Chris is a light sleeper so it’s no surprise when he wakes about a minute later. He groans, deep in his chest, and leans into your touch. “Why, hello,” Chris says, deep and raspy and incredibly sexy. His eyes flutter open and he groans again when your fingers dance above the waistband of his briefs. 

“Good morning, Daddy.” You press a wet kiss to his cheek.

“So, I guess it’s one of those mornings.” 

You’re a teenager living with one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, who you also happen to be in love with, so it’s not really your fault you're horny all the time. “Mmm, yes.” You push the covers off yourself and straddle his lap. “Yes, it is.” 

“You know you’re going to have to be quiet, right?” Chris quirks an eyebrow.

“I know.”

“Baby, you’re not very good at that,” he sighs.

You scrunch your nose and feel your cheeks flush. “Shut up.” 

Chris places his hands on your hips and tugs you forward, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss as soon as you’re close enough. He nips your bottom lip almost immediately, causing a small noise to leave your mouth. Taking the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue, he forces any other noises to be swallowed or muffled. 

Chris slots a thigh between your legs, allowing you to grind down on him. Heat pools in your lower region as you do so. His hard bulge pushes against your thigh as he pulls you closer, lips moving messily in tandem as both of your arousal becomes more evident. Slipping your hands under his shirt, your hands grapple for something to hold on to, coming to rest on Chris’s pecs. Your thumb swipes over his nipple and the sound he makes into your mouth is loud and absolutely pornographic. 

“And you think _I’m_ the loud one,” you say teasingly. 

“You’re a brat,” Chris replies. He swats your hip. 

“You still love me.”

“You’re a brat but yes, somehow I _do_ still love you.” He slides his hands down your hips, cupping your ass. His hands are so large that they engulf your entire bottom and when he squeezes you make a small noise. The thought of how much larger he is makes your pussy throb. 

“How about,” you say, sliding off his lap and back onto the mattress, “we stop talking and you fuck me?”

Chris slips a hand down your sleep shorts and then pushes your panties aside. “I like that idea,” he purrs. He slips a finger between your folds and quietly groans. “ _Jesus_ , sweetheart. You’re soaking wet.” 

He slides a thick finger inside you and you almost cry out, somehow managing to stifle it before you do. “Just for you, Daddy.” Your voice shakes a little. 

Humming, Chris pushes another digit in alongside the other. You bite your lip to stop from moaning. His fingers are thick, though not like his cock, and the burn of the stretch is looming. You might be small and tight but Chris is big _everywhere_. The only exception being his ridiculously tiny waist. 

“What about Seb?” He teases. Chris pumps his fingers in and out of you. With his free hand, he pushes your thighs apart and rubs your clit with his thumb. “Thought you wanted him too?”

It takes all of your willpower to give a spoken response and not just moan. “ _Y_ _es_ ,” you whimper out. He helps you pull your shorts and panties off, and then drags you toward him so your back is flush with his chest. 

As he pulls down his boxers, Chris’s fingers retreat from inside you. However, they’re quickly replaced by the thick head of his cock. He starts at a leisurely pace, so you can feel each inch push inside agonizingly slow, but when he’s about half way in, he slides in right to the hilt. The stretch hurts in the best way and you’re filled just right by him.

You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise you make. Truth be told it’s less of a noise and bordering on a cry. Chris moves your hand away and graciously replaces it by shoving two fingers in your mouth. He knows you enjoy having things in your mouth, whether it be lollipops, gum, his fingers, or even his cock. 

Your tongue swirls around the fingers in your mouth and Chris groans, as he begins thrusting in and out. “You know,” he rasps, desire lacing his voice. “I’ve thought about him fucking you. Thought about you two together.” 

Your mind is instantly filled with evocative scenes even more vivid than your dreams. You whine, squirming against Chris’s chest. He slams into you and lets out a thick, rumbling noise. “You two would be so beautiful together. Such a pretty sight.” 

“Keep talking,” you gasp out around his fingers. Your back arches when Chris settles a broad palm on your hip, long fingers curling around your waist. “Tell me more.” 

You thrust your hips back to meet Chris’s. His cock hits your most sensitive spot and your body spasms. He begins to drive into you with no restraint. “First time I thought about you two was only a few months ago. You were parading around in shorts and that sweater of his you managed to steal. The one that still smells like Seb because you refuse to wash it.” 

If his dick wasn’t literally inside you, you would laugh. You know exactly what night Chris is talking about. It was only a while ago, though it feels like eons, that you put on that sweater, so large it hangs off your shoulder, along with only a pair of tiny shorts and knee high socks. You had been hoping to get a reaction from Chris. At the time you thought you hadn’t. Apparently you were wrong. 

“Sweetheart, as soon as you went to bed, my hand was on my cock. Couldn’t stop thinking about you in that damn sweater. How small you looked. And then I thought of how sweet Seb would be with you.” He’s getting closer; you can tell by the intensity of the short but deep thrusts. “ _God_ , baby. He would be so soft and slow. So _good_. And I know you would be such a good girl for him, wouldn’t you?” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” you whimper. You’re kind of glad Chris isn’t the kind of person to implement a no swearing rule, both during sex and not. It’s really hard to keep your words clean when he talks like that. “I would be. Would be so good for him, Daddy.”

Chris fucks into you, fast and hard. He firmly kisses your shoulder and you can tell he wants to mark you up and claim you as his. But he can’t, so instead he opts for scraping his teeth and beard against your skin. 

“Imagine him here with us, baby. Think about us both fucking you so good,” he murmurs, deep and rumbling. You whine pathetically because you _do_ think about it. You’ve thought about it before. A lot. 

You’ve thought about yourself sandwiched between them. Between Seb and Chris with their strong arms and big hands, each of them fucking into you like they’ll die if they don’t. You’ve imagined practically every position and scenario you can, from being with them at the same time to being fucked by one man and sucking the other off to even just watching them together.

Grinding down on the cock inside you, an involuntary cry comes out of your mouth. Chris’s breath hitches. Neither of you are going to last much longer. 

Chris moves the hand on your hip to your abdomen. You think he’s going to leave it there but he slides it down further and suddenly there’s a finger massaging your clit. Before you can even make a sound, Chris’s fingers are out of your mouth and his hand is clamped over it. You’re glad. Things were about to get extremely loud if he hadn’t done that. 

He pounds into you with reckless abandon as both of your orgasms near. It’s only about a minute before you’re clenching around his cock. “Fuck, _fuck_. Daddy, I’m coming,” you gasp, words muffled by the hand over your mouth. 

Waves of pleasure shoot through your body as Chris continues to thrust in and out. It’s edging on being just a little too much. You briefly consider safewording, incidentally your word being Boston, but Chris’s hips stutter against your ass a few seconds later and you know he’s coming too. He thrusts in as deep as he possibly can, no space left between you and him, and then groans as he spills into you. The sound is low and raspy but muffled into your shoulder. 

Chris stays pressed to your back for another few moments, heavily breathing. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest. “Fuck,” he murmurs as he pulls out. He collapses beside you and you each lie there, panting, for a few minutes. “You should shower. I’ll take Dodger out and make some breakfast for us all.” 

The use of “us all” reminds you that Sebastian is in the same building as you and Chris. You whine, shoving your face into Chris’s side, knowing you have to get up soon. 

“I don’t _want_ to,” you respond, a bratty edge to it. At least you can acknowledge how spoiled you sound. 

With seemingly no effort, Cris pushes your body away from him and slides off the bed. He collects his discarded clothing. Glancing up at him, he crosses his arms. He’s frowning and staring down at you, unblinking. “Don’t care. Get up. You better shower, too.” 

You’re not really in the mood to be reprimanded, though when are you ever, so you force yourself to at least sit up. Leaning against the pillows, you stretch and roll your neck. Chris nods, satisfied. “Good girl,” he says. You flush at the praise as Chris opens your bedroom gingerly. He glances down both sides of the hallway before leaving the room. 

You manage to get yourself out of bed and into the shower within the next ten minutes. Which is astonishing considering Chris didn’t help at all. It’s just before ten o’clock when you pad into the kitchen, showered and dressed. Chris is making bacon and what you think are pancakes. None of it is healthy for any of you, especially Sebastian with his strict diet rules, but you’re not going to complain. 

A few minutes later, as you’re pouring yourself a cup of coffee, Seb enters the kitchen. “Oh, hey,” he says, surprised. He’s still sporting his pajamas, a threadbare Rutgers shirt and sweatpants. No socks. “I heard the shower running a little while ago but I didn't know you were both awake.”

“Morning, Seb. Did you sleep well?” Chris asks, flipping what you are now positive is a pancake. A little on the thin side though, making it resemble a crepe more than anything. You silently pray no other pancakes turn out like that one. 

“Yeah,” Seb responds. It snaps you out of your pancake filled thoughts. “I definitely slept more than I usually do. _Way_ more, actually.” 

You let out an amused noise. Seb rarely sleeps enough, his average amount of sleep being somewhere around four and a half to five hours. 

“How about you, kiddo? How’d you sleep?” You freeze up, instantly filled with panic. You’re not sure whether you should tell him the lie you and Chris configured the previous night or tell the truth. Lying always feels bad and you might even be letting on more than you need to, but if you tell the truth and Seb _knows_ Chris was in your room, there’s no turning back. You settle on lying and pull up as much of your acting experience as you can to help. 

“Honestly, not good. Kinda had a bad night. I didn’t sleep very much.” You make a show of rubbing your eyes. In moments like these you are incredibly thankful for the dark circles perpetually under eyes no matter how rested you are. 

Chris jumps in, catching on to what’s happening like the incredibly smart man he is. “Yeah, I stayed with her last night,” he explains to Sebastian. “She says it helps when someone is with her.” 

Seb nods in response. He makes a pinched face and then almost contemplatively bites his lip. “Y'know,” he starts. Sebastian turns to face you and sends a small smile your way. “If you ever don’t want to wake Chris up while I’m around, you can always come to me. I’m always there for you, kiddo.” 

A shy smile stretches across your lips. “Thank you,” you reply, pushing as much gratitude as you can into your tone. You want him to understand how much that means to you. Seb just leans over and ruffles your hair. 

“So, we’re having pancakes?” He says to Chris. With that, all fear of being caught is gone and the conversation shifts. 

Apparently, it’s a free day for all three of you so you try to decide on something to do. The three of you disagree on what to do for a good fifteen minutes, but eventually settle on going to see a movie. It’s an animated film but apparently they know the actress voicing one of the main characters so they go support her. 

You go to the theatre around two in the afternoon.The movie is just okay, truth be told. But maybe you’ve just become a little elitist when it comes to movies. 

Less than halfway through the movie, you lean your head on Sebastian’s shoulder. He radiates warm and in the chilly air of the theatre you nuzzle into Seb as inconspicuously as you can. Almost tentatively, he places a large hand over your own, resting atop the chair arm your seats share. Sebastian slowly runs a thumb over your wrist.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Chris glance over at you and Seb. Chris’s gaze stays for only a few seconds before it pulls away and he is resting his elbow upon the top of his seat. A minute or so passes. He then stretches the arm out behind Seb’s seat. It’s obvious to you where he’s going and you have to stifle a snicker. 

Chris’s arm begins to slowly migrate further and further down the edge of the seats, until his fingers are brushing the top of your head and his forearm is pressed against Sebastian’s upper back. He’s a big guy and tends to spread out his body a lot, but you’re fully aware this isn’t just Chris feeling too confined. If it weren’t for the dark of the theatre, he wouldn’t be doing this. He wouldn’t openly display something, _things_ really, he wouldn’t in the light of the public.

It’s not just his relationship with you, the epitome of a dirty little secret, but Sebastian too. The internet has speculated for years but even during the time you live in now, for a man like Chris, coming out could possibly ruin his career. It’s not a chance he’s willing to take now, even with the other new development in his life. 

So, you say nothing at his attempt of a private but simultaneously public display of affection. You keep your head on Seb’s shoulder and don’t peek at Chris again. Your eyes stay planted on the screen. Some things are better left undiscussed. 

The next evening, after a day of work for you and Chris and one of exploration for Seb, the three of you have a late dinner of greasy diner food and then go back to the house to get drunk. Well, the original plan isn’t to get drunk, but it’s what ends up happening anyway. Despite being practically five years underage, Chris allows you to drink when in his presence. Which is… nice? He’s at least not being hypocritical about it because at your age he was definitely drinking more and even getting high on a regular basis. 

He allows you two beers. You don’t even like beer that much but once Chris gets to a point that his judgement is skewed enough, you sneak a third. After some time, one of you mentions karaoke so of course the machine in the corner of the living room gets some use after collecting dust for a while. It’s less karaoke and more Seb and Chris badly singing old duets together but you join in for a few songs because why not. There’s nobody else around and you doubt anyone’s memory of it will be very clear once the morning arrives. 

Somehow innocently singing karaoke leads to you pushed against Sebastian’s side and practically in his lap as you watch Chris belt his heart out to some song you don’t even know the name of. As drunk as you are at that point, your head swimming and warmth occupying your insides, you manage to pull your phone out to capture some of it on video. You’re laughing hysterically and your face is buried in Seb’s shoulder. 

The song ends and a very drunk yet persistent Chris manages to rope you into singing a Disney duet. You settle on Can You Feel the Love Tonight from the Lion King with you taking up Timon and Nala’s parts while Chris does Pumba and Simba, both of you doing the chorus. Even in your drunken state you still manage to flush when you catch sight of Seb laughing and wheezing on the couch at you two. Logically, the best decision is to abandon Chris and the karaoke machine and dart over to Sebastian, almost tripping over your own feet on the way. You stumble into his lap and it’s clear it’s only because of the alcohol that Sebastian doesn’t immediately push you off. 

Instead, he settles a hand on your waist as you drape your arms around his neck, still dramatically singing. Chris follows your move to the couch and settles beside Seb, also continuing to sing, but now to him directly. If you weren’t so inebriated you would wonder if the song was really a way for you two to voice what you couldn’t speak. 

Regardless, you sing in Sebastian’s face until the song is over. There’s a sudden silence when the music comes to a stop but it’s quickly replaced by Seb yelping in surprise when Chris lunges at him and attacks him with kisses all over his cheek. 

“I love you, Sebby!” He shouts, words slurring together, and you can’t help but giggle. 

Using your arms, still wrapped around his neck, you lean closer into Seb’s chest and try to plant a kiss on his cheek. Your vision and depth perception must be ridiculously impaired because your lips end up planting an open-mouthed, wet kiss on his _neck._ You don’t pull away even when you realize you should. 

The hand on your waist tightens its grip. You nuzzle your face into Seb’s neck. “I love you too, _Sebby_ ,” you tease, words coming out slow as molasses. What comes out next, seemingly a repeat of what was just said, is less teasing. It’s as serious as a drunk, not even seventeen year old can manage when sitting in the lap of her, also intoxicated, unsuspecting love. “Love you so much.” 

Your memory of the remaining parts of the night is a haze. The only thing you’re sure of is that you stay on the couch with Seb, sticking to him like tree sap. When you wake in the morning, with a pounding headache and a queasy stomach, your back is pressed against his warm, hard body. There’s also an arm slung over your waist, holding you in tightly. lt takes a few seconds, but the night before comes back to you. You snuggle in closer and revel in the moment. 

Later, when Sebastian wakes and gets up from the couch to use the bathroom, you let out a loud whine. It’s not just because the absence of his body leaves you cold. While Seb is still gone, Chris passes you on his way to the kitchen. The look he sends you is knowing and you’re pretty sure he’s smirking as he walks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!!! The plot really is picking up here and I PROMISE it won't be too long until Seb gets roped up in this. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Stay safe and healthy, my lovelies! <3

Mother nature must be in a good mood because the next few days are warm and sunny. The temperature rises steadily each day but overall isn’t too overbearing. You spend most of your time inside anyway, doing schoolwork and immensely grateful for the fans and central air system. 

Chris takes you and Seb on a drive around the Boston area on a day you don’t have much to do. He shows you important places from when he was growing up and even takes you two to dinner with his mom that night. 

The day following that, you accompany Sebastian to see some museums in the heart of the city. It’s there he gets recognized for the first time since he arrived. The girls approach him tentatively and politely. They’re young, probably only a few years older than you. Definitely college-aged. They talk to him for just a few minutes and it’s the first time you have seen him interact with fans in-person. He’s sweet and so polite and it’s obvious just how much he loves his fans. 

The girls ask for a picture so you offer to take it for them. Seb gives them hugs and they leave shortly after. But, not before one of the girls turns to look at you with a shy but knowing smile. “Tell Chris we said hi,” she whispers as her friend pulls her away. 

It’s the first time you’ve been recognized. Sometimes you even forget that your existence is widely known. You always try to stay away from what people say about you, especially the stuff from some of Chris’s wilder fans on Twitter and Tumblr. Occasionally, Chris will send you a tweet he sees that mentions you or a paparazzi picture of him with you lingering in the background. But that’s really it. Your few social media accounts are private and Chris doesn’t talk about you too often. He’s brought you up in interviews roughly two times out of his own free will and has only posted pictures with you three times. 

“Well, that’s going to end up on the internet,” you mutter. You’re not sure if Seb hears you so you start walking towards the next exhibit. 

“They’ll talk,” he says, following you. His voice is low and just a little worried. 

“They always do,” you remind him. The internet never ceases to dig into Seb and Chris’s private lives. Once people get word of Sebastian being out with you in Boston, there’ll be a whirlwind of rumors. However, you’re convinced not one of them will be true. When you return home with Seb in the late afternoon, you make a silent agreement to not tell Chris what happened. His anxiety is already bad enough. 

The subsequent day is almost too hot. And to make matters worse, the sky is clear of any clouds and the sun is beating down on the world below. Chris forces you to spend time outside. If it weren’t for him and Sebastian freely choosing to go out along with you, it would be unbearable. Chris refuses to allow you to bring your laptop out or even use your phone. Which leaves you with little options of what to do. 

“When I was your age,” he starts and you immediately cut him off with a groan. There’s no doubt his sentence is going in the direction of not having technology. Which is, for the most part, a lie because when Chris was your age it was the late nineties. 

“You’re not even that old!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You stalk off to the garage to see if you can find a soccer ball or something. Unfortunately, you don’t. Despite searching for a good ten minutes, the only things you find are a golf club and a football. Neither of which interest you. However, as you turn to leave, something catches your eye. You walk towards it, finding an open box with what appears to be water guns inside. 

You have a thought. You have an idea. You make a plan. 

Grabbing the box, you rush inside to the kitchen as fast as you can so you can fill up the water guns. You don’t want Chris or Seb to think you’ve snuck in the house so you don’t have to be outside, so just as quickly as you ran inside, you race back out. Chris is nose deep in a book and Seb is relaxing on a lounge chair, soaking up the sun in a tank top. You force yourself to look away from his arms, on display without sleeves covering them, because his biceps are huge and even his forearms look strong. Now is not the time to be ogling him, even if his eyes _are_ closed. 

Weighing the pros and cons of each victim, you decide on Seb. Because you’re bored and a little too dramatic for your own good, you slink towards Sebastian as stealthy as you can. Once you’re close enough, you set the other water guns on the floor beside you. You position your gun in front of you and shoot, aiming at his face. The water collides with his face and he reacts instantly. 

“ _Hey_!” Sebastian shouts, an indignant cry. A laugh escapes your lips as Seb jumps up out of the lounge chair, wiping the water off his face, and Chris’s head shoots up from his book at the commotion. He looks around and notices the water gun in your hand. He sends you a disapproving look. Without thinking, your instant reflex is to shoot him with water. 

Chris is out of his own seat before you can blink. “ _Oh_ , you’re in for it now, little missy!” He charges at you like an angry bull. Shrieking in surprise, you race away to find a hiding spot. It’s a good thing you kept your sneakers on because running barefoot on grass is a sure way to slip. 

Unfortunately for you, a harsh stream of water douses your body from behind, the impact stinging. Spinning around to face the attacker, you come face to face with Sebastian. He raises the water gun in his hands menacingly and gives you a devilish smirk. 

“Wait!” You cry, holding up your hands in defense. “Let’s make an alliance and gang up on Chris!” Leave it to you to throw Chris under the bus. You’ll do anything to win a game. 

Seb shrugs and lowers his water gun. “Okay.” Clenching your fist in triumph, you glance around you to see if Chris is around. He’s not. 

“So,” you start, lowering your voice and leaning towards Seb. You have to snap your gaze away from his, frankly gorgeous, biceps and look at his also, if not more, gorgeous face. “How about we find him and then attack him from both sides? There’s really no way he can get out of that.”

Nodding his head, Sebastian makes a noise of agreement and you part ways. You slink down the property towards where Chris presumptively is. 

“I know you’re there,” Chris calls from a distance. His wet footsteps come closer by the second, shoes squeaking in the still damp grass. You duck into a corner shaded by a large tree. The movement isn’t fast enough. In the corner of your eye, Chris bolts toward you. An instantaneous decision, you plonk your water gun on the ground and dash towards the large expanse of yard. “Aha!” 

You’re about halfway down the yard, closer to the road than the house, when you glance behind to see if Chris is following. It's a mistake. Within an instant, your feet trip over one another and your vision becomes a blur as you fall to the ground. The impact is harsh and painful, but you’re immensely glad you’re on the grass and not concrete. Tender, reddened skin is better than blood seeping from torn skin. 

Groaning in pain, you look up to see Chris start to run faster. Even with the distance it’s obvious his face is etched with concern. However, a blur of Sebastian’s figure races toward Chris, catching up with him. You become more focused on what he’s going to do than your pain as the men get closer, both to you and each other. 

Seb catches up to Chris, seemingly just a little faster than his friend, when they’re about two yards away from you. Your mouth falls open in shock as he launches himself towards Chris’s back and tackles him to the ground. 

You’re not sure why, because you truly do sympathize with the pain of the fall, but you find yourself laughing at the two grown men sprawled across the grass, limbs entangled with one another. Within seconds, Seb begins chuckling too. It doesn’t take long until Chris is laughing with you two. The laughter coming from all three of you doesn’t build slowly at all. Instead it explodes instantly, causing a ruckus with the noise. The childish cackles and hoots surely disturb the peaceful, outside atmosphere. 

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and your breaths come out in short gasps, but it’s the best you’ve felt in a while. Pure mirth and joy within all three of you. 

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian sputters out shamelessly through his winded breaths. His laughter refuses to cease, continuing despite the deep breaths Seb attempts to take to steady himself. Chris swats Sebastian’s side as he sits up, a smile intact on his face. 

“That _hurt_.” 

“I said sorry!” 

You have to bite your lip to halt your laughter. The metallic tang of blood reaches your tongue as your teeth sink into your bottom lip. You can’t bring yourself to care. 

“I needed that,” you say to neither of them in particular. Staring up at the cloudless blue sky, a small smile stretches across your lips. “Thank you.” 

Chris disentangles himself from Seb’s body and stands up. He brushes off his grass-stained shirt and shorts. Sighing loudly, he makes his way over to you and stretches out a hand, a silent signal he’ll help you up. You take the hand with your left hand, which is less raw from the fall than your right, and let him lift you. You put no effort into the move, fully aware a singular arm is all Chris needs to lift a person your size. 

He does the same to Seb as soon as your feet are steady on the ground. The only difference is Sebastian puts more effort into pulling himself up. 

“How about I get us all some water?” Sebastian says, finally catching his breath. 

You raise your eyebrows and nod toward an abandoned water gun on the grass a few yards away, a slick smile stretching across your face. Both Chris and Seb roll their eyes and the latter dismisses you with a hand. There’s no real annoyance to it though. 

“I meant _d_ _rinking_ water,” Seb clarifies, though you obviously knew what he meant. He turns on his heels and stalks toward the house, wiping his hands on his sides. “Little devil,” he mutters on the way. 

Once Seb is out of earshot, you turn to Chris. You gaze up at him with wide eyes and flutter your eyelashes. Sticking your bottom lip out, you give him your best pleading face and try your hardest not to giggle. “Daddy,” you say softly. Chris immediately spins around at the name, eyebrows pulling together. “Can you kiss my boo-boos better?” 

His eyes narrow and he sighs loudly. That forces a giggle out of your throat. “Keep up the antics, sweetheart, and I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for days.”

And, _oh_. That isn’t something you two had ever discussed before but by god does it make your stomach flutter in the best way. It takes all of your might to not moan aloud. Chris walks away without another word while you file his “threat” in the mental box of sex things you need to talk with him about. You try to not think about it too much. 

In the late afternoon you develop a harsh headache. Seb lets you lay your head in his lap while he sits on the couch reading. A little while later, Chris sits down on the other side of the couch and talks softly with his friend. Their quiet murmurs and the fingers Sebastian is threading through your hair lull you to sleep. The two men wake you a few hours later to inform you they’re going out to get some food. Your headache still isn’t gone despite the nap so you opt to stay home. 

You tell them to have fun. Each man presses a soft kiss to your forehead before they head off, leaving you to have a tranquil few next hours. Your body is consistently in and out of slumber, more half-awake than not. Around nine, you force your sluggish body to get up and eat something but afterward immediately head to your room with Dodger. Lowering the brightness and volume on your phone, you burrow into the blankets with your canine friend and watch some youtube videos in the dark. 

You’re sleepy yet again when Dodger picks up his head hours later and starts growling as the front door opens. Your brain isn’t invested enough to respond to that or the way Dodger bounds out of the room.

The first stop Chris makes must be your bedroom because he’s standing in your doorway within seconds. 

“Hi,” he says in a hushed voice that’s still too loud to be considered a whisper. You wince, scrunching your face in discomfort. “Sorry. Still have a headache?” 

You nod, burrowing further into the covers. “How was your night?”

“It was nice. We went to dinner and then to a bar.” Chris moves from the doorway to sit on the side of your bed. He places a palm on your cheek. “I may have drunk a bit too much, though. I… got a little jealous and may have scared off this college kid that was talking to Seb.” 

Your head shoots up. “You didn’t.”

“I _did_ ,” Chris admits sheepishly. Even in the dim light from the hallway peeking through the open door, the flush creeping up his neck towards his face is visible. You let out an amused breath. “ _Look_ , that twunk couldn’t have given my Seb what he needs.” 

“ _Y_ _our_ Seb?” 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb and smiles softly. “Sorry. _Our_ Seb.” 

“Damn right he is,” you say, gentle but firm. Even if he isn’t yours yet, he will be. And that’s what matters. “We have to tell him at some point. Besides, I might go crazy if I don’t get to kiss him soon.” 

Chris chuckles softly. “If I’ve waited almost ten years, you can wait for barely a fraction of that.”

“I _want_ him, Daddy,” you whine quietly. It’s more spoken into your pillow than Chris. You cover the hand he has on your cheek with your right palm. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, lips lingering longer than usual. “Me too, baby. Me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!!! Hope you all are doing alright and staying safe in these rough times. I love you all so much and hope you enjoy this chapter. We're getting really close to Seb finally getting involved! :)))))
> 
> (Side note: A few days I realized I messed up the timeline, so if it seems like a LOT of time is passing sometimes, it's because I'm trying to fix things).

The following day is Saturday and unfortunately the last full day Sebastian is in Massachusetts. Like a sad puppy, you mope around all day. Chris tells you the frown on your face must be permanent because nothing can make it go away. Not even a kiss from him. You only frown harder at that. 

Having woken up first thing in the morning with an overwhelming sense of not being good enough, your day starts off bad. The feeling is there when you wake up and it stays for the entire day. And then you spill coffee all over yourself at breakfast and it just continues to get worse from there. By the time you crawl into bed at night, emotionally exhausted and having cried twice throughout the day already, you don’t think it can get any worse than a bad day and one of the loves of your life leaving. Somehow it does. 

You can’t sleep. Tossing and turning for hours, your body refuses to rest. As does your mind. Staying consistent with your mental state from the daytime, your brain keeps reminding you that you aren’t good enough. That all the bad things have been caused by you, that they were all your fault. That you don’t deserve anything you have, especially Sebastian and Chris. 

Maybe you’ve just cried too much already, but no tears fall no matter how much pain you’re in. You eventually leave your room to grab a glass of water but are startled before you even step foot in the kitchen. 

“Jesus!” You raise a hand to clutch your chest in surprise. Sebastian is reclined on the couch in the living room. His eyes aren’t closed but he doesn’t appear to be doing anything. He isn’t even alarmed by your presence. “I didn’t think anyone else was awake.” 

Seb lifts and turns his head. His face is weary and his eyes drooping. “Can’t sleep,” he says, incidentally yawning halfway through the sentence. “Having a bad night?” 

You snort. Walking towards the couch, you plop down on the floor and rest your head against the edge of the couch. Almost as if on instinct, Sebastian places a hand on your upper back. 

“I can’t sleep _and_ I’m having a bad night,” you murmur into the fabric of the couch. “What an absolutely great combination.” 

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but we _can_ talk about something else if you want. To get your mind off things.” 

“Honestly,” you start, taking a second to breathe, “I’m really tired. I just want to sleep.” 

Seb rubs your back absentmindedly. “Y’know what always helps me? Sleeping with someone else.” There’s a pause and then it must hit him that there’s another implication to his words. Not that you would mind doing that. “I mean as in sleeping in the same bed with someone! I know Chris mentioned it always helps when someone is with you. Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” 

His slight panic is kind of adorable if you’re going to be honest. Most things about him are. It surprises you that he’s actually willing to do that. You didn’t realize his offer from a few mornings back was real and not just him trying to be polite. 

You smile at him, small but tender. “You’d do that for me?”

Sebastian returns your smile but his eyes look almost sad. Like he can’t believe you think he wouldn’t do that for you. “Of course.” The hand he has on your back travels up to your neck. It’s a firm but warm presence, grounding you. “I’d do anything for you. I love you.” 

Suddenly you feel too warm. Hearing the big three words like this isn’t exactly the confession you want from him, but you start to understand what Chris had meant when he said Sebastian looks at you like you’re his entire world. Seb’s face is fond and full of love. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in existence. Like his life revolves around you. Like the only reason Sebastian wakes up every day is for you, because you are his _everything_. 

It hits your heart just a little too hard when you realize Chris was right. Seb loves you. He’s in love with you but he’s _scared._ Scared of getting caught. Scared of messing up. Scared of getting hurt. Scared _of_ hurting you and Chris. 

You can’t help but deflect with sarcasm. “Sure way to get all sappy, old man. Come on, let’s go to an actual bed before your back starts hurting from the couch.” You can feel the eye-roll Seb gives as you stand up and begin walking back to your bedroom. It dawns on you that you never got your glass of water. At this point that’s unimportant though because you’re going to have Sebastian Stan in your bed, quite possibly cuddling you if it goes the way you plan. 

By the time you get back to your room, Sebastian has caught up to you. “I got you a birthday gift,” he says, shuffling in behind you. 

“You didn’t have to.” 

“I forgot to pack it.”

That forces a snort out of your nose. You pull the covers of the bed back and grab the extra pillows. You’ve never been happier to have a queen bed. “Of course you did. I don’t even think I’m surprised.” 

Sebastian places a hand on his chest, mockingly offended. “Wow. That hurts.” You roll your eyes and motion for him to get under the covers with you. “Seriously, though, I wanted to give it to you _before_ your birthday.” 

Shutting off the bedside lamp, the room plunges into darkness. Both you and Seb crawl into bed. He pulls the covers over your bodies and scoots closer to you, but he doesn’t touch you. “Can I know what it is?” You ask in a whisper. 

He huffs in annoyance and you can just _feel_ the eye-roll. “The point of a birthday gift is to be a surprise.” 

You don’t respond, instead curling into yourself and adjusting your head on the pillow. Your toe brushes Seb’s leg. Immediately pulling your foot away, your heart pounds in your chest. “Seb,” you say quietly. You almost can’t get it out. It’s meek and pathetic. “Can you hold me?” 

“Of course.” Before he can even move, you roll over to your other side and nestle into his chest. Your head rests just above his heart, the beat of it a soothing rhythm. Seb wraps an arm around you and tugs you closer. He cups your head. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you respond. “It’s–it’s perfect. Thank you.”

He just presses a kiss to your head, a silent way of telling you to shut up and go to sleep. 

Rousing from your slumber in the morning, you don’t want to get up. The sheets are soft and you’re warm and rested, but still a little sleepy. You burrow into the covers and push yourself back just a little bit to meet the hard body of the bed’s other occupant. It’s a mistake. 

You’ve spent enough time with Chris to know what an erection feels like and there is _definitely_ one pressing against your ass. Your eyes shoot open and you attempt to pull away. It’s hard to do so under the covers, trying not to pull the sheets with you as you go, so you don’t mean to but you shift against Sebastian. Still unconscious, he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you in, making a small rumbling noise in his sleep. He nuzzles his face into your neck. Essentially, you are sleeping Sebastian’s teddy bear.

You go rigid against his chest. If you were to move, that could cause Seb to wake up and you _don’t_ need to have a conversation with him about how guilty and sorry he is. However, staying in the position will be torture. It’s the only option though. You’ll pretend to be asleep when he wakes. 

You just hope Sebastian wakes soon. 

Shifting your hips forward, careful to not touch his… lower region again, you try not to think about the situation. About how warm Sebastian is. About how firm his chest is. About his huge bicep dwarfing your own. About his legs tangled with yours. About his thick thighs bracketing your own. About how fucking _huge_ his dic– no, no, NO! 

You take a steadying breath. It’s too early for this. You distract yourself by multiplying numbers and singing songs in your head. Fortunately, by the time both of those things start to get boring, Sebastian awakens. 

As soon as he starts stirring, you go stiff as a board against his body. Your chest tenses along with your body and it takes all of your willpower to breathe normally, as if you were relaxed in sleep, and not ready to full-blown panic the second you get. 

Seb nuzzles his bearded face into the crook of your neck, soft yet coarse whiskers tickling the skin uncovered by your shirt. He’s waking up and, only half awake, he presses against you. The noise he makes is completely indecent and you have to bite for your lip and clench every limb to stop from reacting. 

Slowly, Seb wakes more. Within a minute, he’s rubbing against you. But then he stops suddenly and stills against you, body becoming as rigid as yours. Sebastian wrenches his arm away from you. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” His voice is thick and hoarse with sleep. Seb pulls away without haste. He throws the covers off himself and the cool air hits your body. The hairs on your arms stand up. You try not to shiver. “No, no, no. Shit, shit! Why now? Why now! First the fucking couch incident and now this? Why does this have to happen to me?” 

The bed dips as he scrambles off. Seb’s breathing is loud, harsh, and panicked. If it weren’t for the situation, you would sit up and pull him into a tight hug. 

“Jesus fucking _christ_ ,” Seb groans. His feet pad on the carpet and you think he’s pacing. Stopping for a second, he breathes deeply. He’s out of your bedroom in seconds.

Your eyes flutter open but you don’t roll over. Allowing your body to relax, you breathe out loudly. Your heart starts pounding in your chest. It’s not out of panic, more confusion and overthinking. 

This thing the three of you have, the unspoken love and adoration and attraction and complete fidelity to one another; it’s a ticking bomb. It’s going to blow up in your faces and leave everything in ruins if one of you doesn’t do something soon. More likely than not, none of you will. You’re all too scared of messing things up. Too scared of rejection and being hurt and the others falling out of love. Of every possible thing that could go wrong in a trio as tight-knit as one consisting of two friends who’ve been in love with each other for years and a teenager they let into their hearts both familially and romantically. 

Chris comes to get you a while later as you’re still lying in bed. His face hardens when you tell him what happened. Your heart drops when he groans and buries his face in his hands. 

“We can’t keep living like this,” he says, tight and gravelly, into his hands. You drop your forehead against his shoulder. “We can’t keep dancing around each other and then bolting away when the slightest thing happens.” 

You go to brunch instead of eating at home later in the morning. Chris takes you two to a place that’s a little classier than his usual spots. The outing warrants clothing nicer than your everyday look, so you throw on a pair of paper bag trousers you don’t remember buying and a black, short-sleeved mock turtleneck, complete with a pair of all-white sneakers. Chris gives you a disapproving look at the sneakers but doesn’t say anything. You’re a teenager so you can get away with it. Besides, the shoes are stylish enough to not make you look shabby and underdressed.

Brunch isn’t necessarily awkward, but you know Seb well enough to know every interaction with you is hesitant. Like he's refraining from getting too comfortable. You’re sure Chris notices but neither of you acts like anything has happened. It’s easier that way. Seb is leaving that night and no matter what happened, you refuse to let him go on an uncomfortable note. 

Things lighten up a little when Chris notices a girl sneaking a picture of you guys. He mentions it, making you laugh as Seb starts complaining about people who take pictures of him in public. It reminds you of the girls who recognized you at the museum. You still haven’t, and _won’t_ , tell Chris about the interaction. 

Before you leave, as your waitress is handing back Chris’s credit card, she stops and smiles at you all. “You have a beautiful family,” she says to none of you in particular and then walks away. 

“Did she–?” Seb says, bewildered.

“I guess so,” you respond. 

You leave the restaurant a few minutes later, not discussing the incident any further. Chris puts a hand on Sebastian's shoulder as the three of you are walking out, whispering something in his ear. Whatever it is makes Seb crack a smile, but flush lightly. As that is happening, Chris slips a hand around your waist. His fingers curl possessively around you, just above your hip. 

He turns to you, staring you dead in the eyes, and moves the hand on Seb’s shoulder to the nape of his neck. Somehow, caught in the moment, Seb doesn’t realize just exactly how his friend is holding on to him. Chris’s eyes momentarily flicker to the placement of his hand on Seb’s neck and then his gaze returns to you. He doesn’t say anything, a self-satisfactory smirk ghosting over his lips. 

Seb’s flight departs in the nighttime, you think around eight but you’re not entirely sure, so you have a few more hours with him before he’s back to New York. Though he’ll only be in New York for two days before he flies out to the midwest to film. 

The three of you lounge around for a while in the living room. You end up on the floor with Dodger as Chris and Sebastian tell you stories of their early Marvel days. You’ve heard the story of the first time they met about five times already, but the details change every time and you make sure to point that out. 

“Oh, _I’m_ sorry,” Seb says. “I didn’t know you were part of the Story Accuracy Police Force.”

You petulantly stick your tongue out at him and Chris lets out a belly laugh from his place on the couch. “Y’know, Seb, if I had a diary the only thing I would do is shit on you in there.” 

“How nice,” Seb replies sarcastically. 

“Dear diary, Seb was mean to me today. I hate him so much. He sucks and shouldn’t be allowed within ten feet of me ever again.” 

He raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “That’s such a lie.” You glance at Chris to see him watching the interaction intently. You’re completely convinced he’d be on the edge of his seat, shoveling popcorn in his mouth if he could. “I’m clearly your favorite person.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. He isn’t wrong. Not at all. Despite the lack of an abundance of friends that most teenagers have, your favorite people shouldn’t be two fully grown men twenty years your senior. Who you also happen to be completely, utterly, absolutely head over heels in love with _._ But they are. And nothing can change that. 

“One of two,” you say quietly, refusing to meet both Seb’s and Chris’s gazes. “One of two.”

You and Chris take Seb to his terminal around six-thirty. The pouting face is back again and both men laugh at you, but you know neither wants Seb to leave either. Chris pulls up to the curb and stops the car so you can say your goodbyes. Getting out of the car, you stare up at Seb as Chris gets his bags from the trunk. 

“It’s not for forever,” Sebastian says and he’s not crying but the emotion is thick in his voice. “I’ll see you soon.” 

You lunge at him, wrapping your arms around his torso. “It’s not soon enough,” you grumble into his torso. Seb envelops you with his big arms and firm chest, allowing you to sink into his warmth. He must beckon Chris over because before you know it, Chris is pressed up behind you and embracing Seb. You’re sandwiched between them with little room to breathe. Any other time you would firmly protest and object to the position, but right now it’s perfectly fine. 

Chris strokes your hair and the hug tightens as he pulls Sebastian closer to you both. “I don’t want you to go,” Chris confesses. His voice is almost trembling and he sounds so vulnerable it hurts. 

“I don’t wanna go,” Seb replies into the huddle. It’s slightly muffled by the bodies, but the message is clear. You squeeze Sebastian tighter and commit as much of the moment as you can to memory. You never want to forget it. You don’t know how long the three of you stay there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, but it’s long enough. Eventually, Seb pulls away and both you and Chris reach out for him, fingers barely brushing him. Sebastian masks whatever he’s feeling with a smile that makes your stomach churn. “I have to go.” 

Both you and Chris nod, giving him unnecessary permission to leave. Seb grabs his bags and is off. You don’t look away until he’s inside the terminal and the door has closed. There’s a fleeting moment in which you want to chase after him, tell him you love him, and ask him to stay. Preferably for forever. But you don’t. Chris wraps his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss to your temple as your face falls. It scrunches up as you feel tears well in your eyes. You hide your face into Chris’s arm so he doesn’t see you cry. 

Things are sad in the following days. The word sad is elementary and a little childish, but it’s true. It’s _sad_. It’s like a part of your household, your _family_ is missing. Which, in a way, is true. Sebastian and Chris are your family. Being with both of them together is the most at home you ever feel, no matter where you are. 

The only benefit to Seb leaving is being able to sleep with Chris again. You missed his presence every night you had to sleep in your room. It was cold and lonely and didn’t feel right at all. The thing is, that first night Seb is gone, something has changed. Chris’s bed suddenly feels too big. There’s always been room for more than two people but now it’s almost as if there’s an absence. Like someone is _missing_. 

Two and a half weeks after Seb leaves, Chris gets a call. He’s been invited to the opening night show of a play an actor friend of his is starring in on Broadway. It doesn’t hit you immediately why Chris sounds so giddy when he tells you. But then it does. 

Broadway. New York City. You’re going to New York City. Seb lives in New York City. You get to see Seb. 

You don’t say anything. Smiling as brightly as you can, you meet eyes with Chris to find a matching smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely readers!!! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I say this with no context but I promise it will make sense when you finish reading the chapter: this was ALWAYS the plan. Even years ago, when this was just a stupid fantasy dream I had, THIS is what was meant to happen. 
> 
> Enjoy!!! ;)

The weeks drag by, each day feeling far longer than twenty-four hours. Your birthday passes two and a half weeks before you leave for New York. On the morning of your birthday, you wake up to breakfast in bed. It’s pleasant. The rest of the day is too, for the most part. You celebrate in the evening with Chris’s family, everyone determined to make up for all the birthdays you didn’t have. Even with your awkwardness and hesitation to bond with anyone besides Scott, you’re glad everyone cares enough to celebrate. 

Chris gets you a pretty tiara to wear to dinner that his sisters fawn over. The place is nice and the food is phenomenal. After dinner, you return home, where everyone eats cake and you open gifts. Everyone gets you gifts but, disregarding Chris’s, Scott’s gift is by far the best. It’s a large, fuzzy blanket with a picture of you and Dodger on it which makes you laugh so hard when you open it that you almost fall over. 

Chris’s gift is something special. His gift is the last and he hands you a plain box wrapped in Captain America wrapping paper. That makes everyone snicker. Scott leans over to fist bump his brother as you begin unwrapping the gift and you’re almost certain he knows what Chris has got you. 

You throw the wrapping paper to the side and open the box, finding a Mickey Mouse ear headband and a bracelet. You don’t want to seem ungrateful but your face scrunches in confusion. “Huh?” You pick up the ears so you can get a better look at the bracelet. Once you get a good look at the bracelet, you realize it’s neither a normal bracelet nor the actual gift. Your mouth drops open. “No way! Really?”

Turning to Chris, your mouth stays open. He nods, smiling. You jump up from where you’re sitting and race to the other side of the room, flinging your arms around him. “Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers in your ear. 

“I’m going to Disney!” You exclaim and you can’t even bring yourself to care about how childish you sound. Just like Chris, you’ve always been a Disney fanatic. Your safety “blanket” as a child was even a Simba plush that someone must have bought when you were an infant. However, you never got to visit Disney. So, this was the literal best birthday present in the history of your life. You press a sloppy kiss to Chris’s stubbled cheek. He’d, unfortunately, shaved two days prior. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh my god!”

Later, Chris’s mother, the last person to leave, is still pulling out of the driveway when you drop to your knees in the living room to thank Chris in the best way you know. And maybe you ride him on the sofa with your tiara on while he calls you princess. 

By the time the day you depart for New York rolls around, you’re practically vibrating with energy. You’re aware of how much Chris loves you, but you’re also aware that your excitement is getting to him. And not in a good way. 

It’s certainly helpful that you’re on your way to Seb’s in an Uber as soon as you leave the airport and Chris is on his way to do his own business. It was decided when everything was being planned out that you would stay the night at Sebastian’s place and Chris would get a hotel room. Sebastian doesn’t live anywhere near the theatre district so if Chris had decided to stay at Sebastian's place it would be extremely late and he would certainly wake one, if not both, of you by the time Chris arrived back.

Conversing with your Uber driver, you tell her all about Sebastian and how excited you are to see him. Without explicitly saying anything, she guesses within the first five minutes you’re in love with him. It makes you pause and consider just _how_ obvious you are about it. Your hands start to get a little clammy but you push the thought to the back of your brain and try to solely focus on seeing Seb. 

The second the car stops outside Seb’s building, you’re thanking your driver and rushing out of the car, duffel bag in hand. You probably look insane, running into the building in your comfy sweatpants, oversized t-shirt, and yellow Crocs with patterned Baby Yoda socks. 

The doorman nods and says, “Good afternoon, miss,” as you breeze past him with a “Good afternoon” of your own. You may be a woman on a mission, but you still have manners. 

Seb doesn't live in the most luxurious place in New York City so it’s still a little jarring to you that there’s both a doorman _and_ a concierge. The concierge looks up as you enter the lobby and smiles as he looks at you. “Stan, right?” He asks.

After shaking off the initial shock of being either recognized or remembered, you nod eagerly, giving the concierge a smile of your own. “Yep.” 

“Go on up. I’ll let him know you’re coming.” 

You call out your thanks as you head over to the elevators. Luckily, you don’t have to wait. Pressing the button of Sebastian’s floor, you begin fidgeting, practically bouncing on the soles of your feet as the elevator rises. 

Once it reaches his floor and the doors open, you dash down the hallway to your destination. Reaching Seb’s apartment, you knock on the door, using all of your self-control to not pound on it. The door swings open to reveal Sebastian in all of his blue-eyed, brown-haired glory. 

Instinctively, practically a Pavlovian response at this point, you smile. Your body stills, every ounce of excitement gone within the second and replaced by the feeling of coming home. “Hi,” you whisper softly. 

“Hey,” Seb responds. His tone and volume are identical to yours. 

You don’t stay still for long. Darting at Seb, you wrap your arms around his neck. He reciprocates by embracing you and spinning you around into the apartment. You hold on for dear life. When he settles you down, you have to stand on your tippy-toes to keep the position. But it’s okay because you’re able to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne and a whiff of that stupid air freshener he sprays around the apartment, you tighten your hold on Sebastian. 

“I missed you so much,” you admit. Your voice comes out croaky and you can’t help but cringe. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. Or maybe he doesn’t. However, you know for certain Sebastian at least has his face buried in the hair at the top of your head. 

“Missed you too,” he says breathily. You don’t want to pull away from Sebastian’s warmth or the way he’s holding on like you’ll disappear if he lets go. You’re forced to move when he releases you a minute later. A pout begins to form on your face but it’s replaced by a smile when you catch the twinkle in Sebastian’s eyes. “Can I give you your birthday present?” 

You perk up at that. “Ooh,” you say, drawing out the o, “of course.” 

“Great, let me go grab it.” Seb dashes away. A rustling comes from his bedroom and then he returns with what looks like a box in hand. He pats the side of the couch. “Come sit!” 

You close the front door behind you and set your bag down so you can follow him to the couch. Taking a seat, you face Sebastian. He grins at you and hands you an envelope along with the gift. “Happy belated birthday.” 

As a courtesy, you open the envelope first. It has a card with a cute, little snail on the front and “sorry I’m late” printed on the inside. In Sebastian’s messy script, there’s a message wishing you a happy belated birthday and hoping you enjoy the present. 

When you finish reading the card, you carefully set it aside, and grab the gift. You find out it’s not a box and actually a book wrapped in brown paper, tied together with a ribbon. Your name is written on the paper in unfamiliar handwriting. Diving into the task, you undo the ribbon and rip the paper open. 

It’s a book. But, it’s not just any book. It’s your favorite childhood book and also what you’re sure is a first edition. You flip it open to the front cover and there’s a note on the inside wishing you a happy birthday from the author. 

“You didn’t.” Your tone is incredulous but bordering on overeager too. 

Sebastian holds back a smile. “I may have.” He scratches the side of his head. “I know it’s not better than Disney, but I hope you like it.” 

The only thing your brain registers about the sentence is Disney. “You knew about Disney?” Seb nods. “You asshole!” 

He chuckles at that. “Happy birthday,” he says again. 

You throw your arms around his neck, practically pushing him down on the sofa cushions. “ _Thank you_. I love it. I also love the card. The card is adorable.” 

You spend the rest of the afternoon catching up and talking about random things. You tell Sebastian all about your birthday. Well, everything except the part about blowing Chris and riding him on the couch. Seb promises he would’ve been there for your birthday if he could’ve been. You don’t doubt it. 

In the midst of your conversation, you eye some board game boxes and bring up playing one. Scrabble is what you decide on when Seb agrees, telling you he hasn't played much of anything lately. Both of you are intent on winning so the game lasts so long it’s dark by the time you finish. It's good timing, anyway. You’re both starving so Seb decides to cook dinner. He makes one of his weird healthy meals. You’re not really sure what it is, but it’s surprisingly good. 

After dinner, you jump up to sit on the kitchen counter while Seb cuts fruit for dessert. He suggests you watch a movie because, “I haven’t seen another person’s movie in so long.” You scroll through Netflix on your phone to search for a movie, voicing suggestions for Seb to approve or veto. You settle on an action-comedy that turns out to be so bad it doesn't deserve the title of film. 

Instead of turning it off, because you both hate leaving movies unfinished, you mock and critique it until the end. Snorting and giggling until it’s done, migrating toward each other the entire time, it’s better than plain watching it. More than enjoyable because it’s with Sebastian. By the time the movie is done, it’s late. You’re both exhausted because of the hour and because neither of you two sleeps enough. 

“Alright,” he says, clapping his hands together and standing up, “you know the drill. Get your bag and take the bed.” 

You rise from the couch. Slowly, your eyes glance at Seb and then the couch. For a second, you momentarily remember the ongoing debate of whether Anthony Mackie has actually ever been on that couch. You stifle a giggle. 

“We could just share the bed,” you suggest. You don’t like the idea of Seb sleeping on the couch, no matter how comfortable it is, when he has a perfectly good bed a few rooms away with _more_ than enough room for the two of you. 

“No,” he says immediately. It’s curt and cold, leaving no room for disagreement. It’s the most authoritative Sebastian has been with you the entire time you’ve known him. Almost like he’s trying to be parental. His expression softens, likely an attempt to rectify his prior response. “It’s okay. I’m fine with sleeping on the couch.” 

Still a little stunned by his reaction, you don’t bother asking if he’s sure. “Okay. G'night.” You turn around, keeping your eyes on Seb for as long as you can. You pick up your bag from the floor and head to the bedroom. 

You prepare for bed and then climb under the sheets. Just before your eyes close, your phone pings with a notification. Groaning internally, you turn your phone over to check it. It says you’ve been tagged in an Instagram post. Curious, you unlock your phone to take a peek. 

The first picture on the post is a Paparazzi shot of you with Chris. It’s nothing special. You swipe left to look at the next photo and it’s another of you, albeit with Chris _and_ Seb. You learn quickly that every single one of the ten pictures on the post includes you. It’s jarring to have your existence acknowledged so blatantly and even more so when you check the comments. There’s not many but they’re all assorted, ranging from calling you pretty to complaining how lucky you are. 

The post prompts you to spend the next half hour searching various social media sites for mentions of you. Previously, you’ve never cared what people thought about you. Now you’re curious. You fall asleep with a Twitter picture of Chris, Seb, and you laughing like idiots open on your phone. 

Sebastian is already cooking breakfast by the time you wake up. After you slip on socks and wake yourself up with a splash of cold water, you pad into the kitchen. He's standing over the stove with ingredients splayed around him on the counter. From the table, his phone is playing an old but recognizable tune that Sebastian is humming along to.

“Morning,” you drawl, voice still dry with slumber. Fortunately, you're not too tired to make a pun. “What’s cooking?” 

“How funny. Making omelets though.” 

You take a few more steps into the kitchen and peer over Seb’s shoulder. Indeed, there are omelets cooking. “Oh, thank god. I thought you were going to make me some weird vegan thing.” 

He finally turns to look at you. “I’m not even vegan!”

“Exactly.” The aroma of coffee fills your nose. Following the scent to the side of the kitchen, you sigh in relief. Seb was kind enough to leave coffee in the pot for you. You grab a mug from the cabinet and pour yourself some from the pot. “I love you _so_ much.” 

“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” Sebastian asks, turning to you and cocking an eyebrow. 

“Does it matter?” 

A few minutes later, the omelets are ready. You set the table as Sebastian serves you both and then you sit down to eat. You're both starving so the conversation is light but comfortable. It registers how domestic the scene is. A quiet sort of contentment spreads through your body. It’s an improbable future, but you can see this being your life every day. Waking up to this every morning instead of once every few months. You want it, you want it to be a part of your life, almost as much as you want Sebastian. The only thing missing is a certain Bostonian not currently present. 

Said Bostonian arrives about half-past eleven, long after breakfast has been devoured and the kitchen cleaned up. You and Sebastian both even managed to brush your teeth and put on actual clothing. 

Chris is buzzed up and you open the door for him a few minutes later. Immediately, he pulls you into his typical bear hug. Unlike Sebastian’s hug from the previous day, Chris doesn’t spin you into the apartment. However, his grasp is almost as bone-crushing. 

“ _Geez._ You just saw me yesterday,” you say, trying not to let his embrace squeeze you to death. 

“I missed you,” he pretty much whines. Looking up at Chris, his eyes are big and his lip is stuck out. He’s pouting like a sad puppy. 

“Seb!” You call. He’s doing something in his bedroom so you hope he hears. “We have a problem. I think Chris has an addiction to me.” 

Chris rocks you from side to side, still holding you in his embrace. He speaks into your ear, lowering his voice but not quite whispering, “you know I do, sweetheart.” 

The endearment makes you melt despite how many times he’s called you by it. Sebastian re-emerges from the bedroom. Chris pulls away from you and rushes over to Seb.

“Seb!” Chris throws his arms around Sebastian. The other man follows suit. Unlike how their hugs used to be years ago, bro-like and a little distant, their bodies are wrapped around each other. They’re snuggling into the other’s warm touch, with Chris tucking his nose into Seb’s shoulder and Seb cradling Chris’s head with his palm. If you weren’t already aware of how in love with each other they are, this would've been your epiphany. 

When the men finally tear away from the tight embrace, you make your way to the living room. As creatures of habit, the three of you fall into your usual catching up before you do anything else. After the catching up is finished, you goad them into playing another round of Scrabble. It’s terribly chaotic and Chris wins with strategically placed complex words. Somehow you come in second with words like cat and head. 

Chris, of course, makes a disgustingly dirty joke when you put the tiles down for head that has Seb swatting his shoulder. However, that backfires on him when you end up in second place despite your elementary words. Sebastian flips the board, which has you falling over because of how hard you’re laughing. 

Nothing can change the jovial mood you’re in. You’re almost completely sure of it. Even when Sebastian has to take a call he forgot about or when an old friend who talks for a little too long calls Chris a few minutes after Seb retreats to the bedroom on his phone call. You wind up flipping through a book Sebastian has laying on the coffee table. It’s one of the self-help books he always talks about. You end up burrowed nose-deep in the book within five minutes. 

For an early dinner, you order from a taco place Sebastian loves. The tacos are so messy and it’s totally a mistake to eat in the living room and not the kitchen. Regardless, the tacos are so delicious Seb can’t even be mad. 

“Eh, whatever,” he responds, shrugging when Chris points out how there’s probably food between the couch cushions and on the floor. 

After dinner, you put on some music while you help clean up. Despite not having used any dishes for dinner, Chris is a kind guest and cleans the dishes from lunch nobody bothered touching. In the meantime, Seb takes the trash out. 

Chris starts doing a little tap routine as he puts dishes to dry. You can’t help but giggle. He stops momentarily and pulls you to his chest, swaying your body with his. If you didn’t know for a fact he’s not drunk, you would question if he were. 

Continuing to laugh, you try to pull away. Grabbing your face and drawing you right back in, Chris leans down to kiss you gently. He attempts to move away. As payback, you don’t let him. You drag him into another kiss, one far less gentle than the first. You use all the energy you have to make it as unchaste as you can. Chris makes a low, growling noise. He tangles a hand in your hair, biting and nipping at your bottom lip. 

Pushing you against the counter, Chris hoists you up on top of it. He never once breaks the kiss. You can’t help but quietly moan into his mouth. Another song starts playing. It’s a loud, guitar-filled one that reminds you of Chris’s unfairly gorgeous body and all his tattoos. You palm his chest where the newest tattoo is inked on as Chris continues to delve into your mouth, tongue pushing against your own. 

And then everything goes to shit. 

The music stops abruptly. Your chest constricts. Both you and Chris tear apart and glance at the phone. Instead of solely finding the phone, you find a shocked Sebastian standing in the kitchen entryway with the phone in hand. With the music playing so loudly, it’s apparent neither your nor Chris heard him return. 

Seb’s body is rigid and his mouth is hanging open. His eyes seem to be debating whether they want to widen in shock or narrow in fury. Apparently, they decide on fury because a second later he’s sending you two a death glare. The volcano erupts. “WHAT THE _FUCK?_ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!!! I'm SO sorry for the delay on this chapter. Originally, this chapter and the next one were supposed to be combined but I decided to split it into two separate chapters since it was taking a long time to write. Thank you all for reading this fic, by the way!! In less than four months we've hit over 10K hits and it's astounding to me!! 
> 
> Love you all! Enjoy this chapter <3

There’s silence for a few seconds. Sebastian just stares at you two with a clenched jaw and eyes seemingly baring into your souls. You can’t help but question if he already knew and this is just his suspicions being confirmed. Your heart begins pounding in your chest. 

Sebastian's gaze turns to Chris. He doesn’t yell but the rage simmering beneath his tone is evident. “I _trusted_ you,” he hisses. “You think I didn’t know? Do you think I didn’t see how you looked at each other? I did! Of course, I did! But, I was stupid enough to trust you. To trust that you would be the fucking _adult_ and not do anything.” 

Beside you, Chris opens his mouth. He’s cut off before he can even form a syllable. 

“No! This is my time to talk, okay?” The white-hot anger rises in Sebastian as his voice gets louder. He stabs his finger in the air at Chris. “You said everything you needed to say when I walked in on that little spectacle. So, you’re going to listen to what I have to say. If you don’t like it then you can get the hell out of my damn apartment!"

You’ve never been good at dealing with being in the presence of an angry person. Especially when you’re part of the reason for their anger. And Seb; calm, placid, and easygoing Seb, is no different than any other encounter in the past you’ve had like this. Possibly even worse. Wringing your hands together, they start to get clammy. You swallow deeply and attempt to not start panicking. It’s certainly not the time to have an attack. 

Sebastian’s face falls into his hands. “ _J_ _esus_ , Chris. You really fucked it up this time, didn’t you? I mean, she’s a fucking kid! She’s _your_ fucking kid! Don’t tell me you don’t understand how fucked up that is!” 

You’ve never heard him curse so many times at once. Usually, he curbs his language around you, despite knowing neither you nor Chris care. You drop your feet on the floor as quietly as you can manage, trying not to draw attention to yourself as you get down from the counter. 

Seb’s eyes fall on you anyway. A contortion of emotions flickers across his face but the only one you can pick out individually is the clear disappointment. Your heart drops in your chest, heavy and hard. Head drooping, your cheeks heat up. Sebastian walks toward you and you don’t know what prompts it, but you back up against the counter like a caged animal.

“Look at me,” Sebastian quietly demands. Your teeth start chattering as the nerves overtake your body. You try to hide it as Seb tilts your chin up with a long pointer finger. He rubs his free hand over his stubble, the muscles in his face tightening. “I… I can’t really be mad at you, kiddo. It’s not right to do so. You’re a _kid_. You’re being taken advantage of here. You don’t know what you want. Do you even understand how much of a _power_ imbalance there is here?” 

Sebastian turns away from you. He stands still as a statue for a few seconds before he starts pacing. He brings his face to his hands and then runs the hands through his hair, mussing the locks. Seb groans loudly. The sound is aggressive, angry, and _so_ disappointed. 

Your eyes flicker to Chris, who’s standing with his hands clasped in front of him. He’s hunched over with his eyes downcast. He’s biting and licking his lips. Those are the tell-tale signs of his anxiety. You’d do anything to step over and pull him into a hug, but something tells you an angry Sebastian is not one to disobey. The only strict order was to not talk but it’s guaranteed one of you would start crying if you hugged Chris. Which probably wouldn't make Sebastian any less upset. 

Seb halts his pacing. He pauses in the middle of the kitchen, but doesn’t look up from where his eyes are boring holes in the floor. 

“I heard you two one night.” His voice is low but laced with a scalding kind of fury, the words penetrating the silence of the apartment. Sebastian turns to you, locking his eyes with yours. His blue eyes are cold and icy for the first time since you’ve known him. “I wasn’t sure for a long time, half-convinced I was just going crazy. But then I heard you that night. You said ‘I want him, Daddy.’ I tried lying to myself. I told myself you couldn’t have been talking about me. I told myself I misheard, that you had said dad. But I knew even then you _definitely_ hadn't said dad. You’ve never once called Chris that name because you don’t _want_ a father.” 

The worst part is that he isn’t wrong. You never wanted a father in Chris or even a father-figure in Sebastian. You just wanted them. At first, it was anyway you could get them. But then things changed and the only thing you wanted was for them to be yours. 

“You’re not denying anything.” Chris’s words cut through the tension, the first thing either of you has said. “You’re not denying you want it too.” 

“Just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s right!” There’s a beat of silence as his words echo in the air. Seb swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Chris pushes himself off the counter and starts walking, his pace increasing by the second. Before either you or Seb can comprehend it, Chris is pulling the front door open and slamming it closed. Sebastian trails his path, yelling after him. “ _Christopher!”_

With tension written all over his body, Seb stops and stares at the door. A minute passes and he doesn't move a muscle. On the counter next to you, your phone lights up with a message. You almost ignore it but realize it’s from Chris. In the wake of recent events, you can't help but wince at his contact name: Daddy Dearest. 

_Not actually mad. I ran out so you could talk to him. He’ll listen to you better than he will to me._

You grab your phone from the table and type out a response as quickly as you can.

_T_ _hanks, I’ll try my best. :/_

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, debating if you should say anything else. 

You set your phone back down, careful to not make any noise, and lean back against the counter. Chris might be right that Sebastian will listen to you better, but it’s not fair to leave you alone. He has just as much involvement in this as you and you never discussed getting _caught._ You don't know what to say or even _how_ to say it. You’re on your own. And if it fails, it will be all your fault.

Letting out a deep breath, you walk towards Seb. He's standing rigid in the middle of the living room. Your heart rate speeds up just a little. “We should talk,” you say. Your voice shakes. “We really should.” 

“There’s not really much left to say.” Sebastian’s voice is flat, void of any prior emotion. “I’ve basically said everything.” 

He laughs bitterly and the sound goes straight to your heart, piercing like a dagger. Tears threaten to well in your eyes. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe deeply and try your hardest not to let any fall. 

“I want you to hear my side of this.” Without thinking, you stride toward Sebastian. You let your fingertips brush his shoulder, barely grazing. “ _Please_. Even you know that you don’t know the whole story.” 

He doesn’t turn to look at you. “Fine. Sit on the couch.” 

You hesitate to move, lingering behind even as Seb moves to the couch. You walk over and sit down quietly and lightly, as to not draw too much attention to yourself. A less screwed up person would’ve been braver in a moment like this. Much less timid and shy. 

“Talk,” Seb demands. He still refuses to look at you and your throat tightens up. 

“I’m sorry,” is all you can manage out. You make a small noise as your throat closes up. Looking up at the ceiling, you clench your fist so you don’t start bawling. 

“It’s _way_ too late for that.” 

There’s a few beats of silence and your thumping heart is all you hear. The silence is unnerving, like the calm after the storm. The destruction is all around you and the tornado is gone, but the absence of noise is grim and unsettling. 

“I love him.” You move your head down, casting your eyes downward so you don’t have to look at Sebastian. “And he loves me too. This is more than just sex or whatever you think it is. I don’t know what I would be without Chris. I need him.”

“So, what is this? Some codependent kind of bullshit?” 

Turning your head, you face Sebastian. His hand is on his forehead, elbow propped up on his thigh. He’s looking in your direction but not at you. It feels like he can't even look at you. Like he doesn’t even want you in his line of sight. That hits just a little too hard. 

“ _No_ ,” you respond firmly. Despite everything you’re feeling, you puff out your chest and stand up straight. You’ll just have to fake the confidence until you actually have it. “It’s actually quite a healthy relationship contrary to what you may be inclined to believe, _Sebastian_.” 

Full naming him seems to be your only option at this point. And it works. His gaze instantly switches to you. Making eye contact, you each become the focus of the other’s attention. There’s a silence as you stare each other down. Even the streets outside are quiet, unusual for a night in the city.

Seb cracks first. His sullen voice slices through the silence unexpectedly. 

“How long?” Sebastian runs the hand on his forehead through his hair. It’s much longer than it was than the last time you saw him. More fluffy on the top. “How long has this been going on?” 

You don’t respond immediately, trying to count back the months. “Early winter,” you finally say, hesitant. “A little before the new year.” 

His reaction is immediate, turning to you with eyes blown wide open. “Jesus _Christ_. Over half a year? What the hell was Chris thinking?” 

“It’s legal!” You counter with just a little too much force to the two words. It probably doesn’t help. “The age of consent in Massachusetts is sixteen.” 

“I’m not even going to ask why you know that. And still, you’re a _kid_ !” Seb snaps. “You’re _his_ kid!” 

Your face hardens instantly and you clench your jaw to refrain from having an outburst. You’re starting to hate the word ‘kid’. 

“I’m not a kid.” You breathe deeply. “And I haven’t been for a long ass time. I don’t talk about my life before I met you guys, but I’ve been through and seen so _fucking_ much. I’ve been physically and emotionally abused, Seb. I’ve been neglected and had to raise myself. I’ve seen people overdose and die _right_ in front of me. I’ve walked in on not one but _two_ successful suicide attempts. I’ve been through hell and back more times in seventeen years than most people do in a lifetime. I was an adult before I was even a teenager, Seb.” 

He opens his mouth and only gets out “I–” before you cut him off. 

“I’ve been both the child and the parent. I don’t need a parent anymore. And that’s never what I wanted from either you or Chris. You two were the first to treat me like I, one, wasn’t broken and, two, was mature. You never saw me differently or as below you or like I was just some dumb kid. Why change that now? I know what I want. Chris knows what he wants. _You_ know what you want. I can refute _any and every_ single point you bring up. Age problem? It’s legal both here and in Massachusetts. I’m more mature than most people in their twenties anyway. Relation problem? We’ve never had a normal relationship, the three of us. Since the day we met! Guilt problem? There’s literally _no_ reason to be guilty!” 

The anger in Sebastian dissipates as his face crumbles. He makes a noise that’s almost a sob. His voice cracks as he says, “I… I just _can’t,_ okay?” 

“ _Why_ ?” You shout, voice wavering. The echo rings in your ears and your breath turns staccato as you edge the verge of tears. “Are we not good enough? Am _I_ not good enough?”

“No,” Sebastian gasps quietly. He finally moves, settling himself right beside you. Your knees knock together. “ _God_ , sweetheart, no. You’re perfect.”

The pet name, the one Chris adopted for you and Seb followed using a short time later, isn’t even enough to calm you. 

“So, _why_? What is it?” 

Deep blue eyes squeeze shut and when they open there are tears in them. Seb lets out a shaky breath. “I can’t hurt you. I can’t hurt Chris. I… I would _ruin_ you two. I can’t do that.” 

For a few seconds, the only thing you can do is stare at him slack-jawed. 

“ _Seb_ ,” you say softly but with a trembling voice. “You and Chris are the best things to ever happen to me. I don’t know what I would be without you. You make me happy. I… _I_ _love you_. So much.” 

The gravity of the moment undermines your shock of finally admitting how you feel to his face. 

“I know what you want and I’ll just hold you both back. Chris wants the white picket fence, trophy wife, two kids kind of life. And you want a career. You want the chance to live without being held back or tied down by anything or anyone.” 

Exasperated, you throw your hands up. “We want _you_!” Rubbing your face, you groan. Seb is just as stubborn as Chris. If not more. You can’t tell if it’s worse or not because Seb _isn’t_ having a moral crisis like Chris was. 

“No, you don’t!” He shouts. The echo rings in the apartment and you wince. Sebastian’s voice is quieter when he speaks again, barely more than a whisper. “Even if you do, neither of you should have to settle for less than what you deserve.”

Your mouth falls open but you clamp it shut as anger rises in your chest. “I’m not even going to _touch_ the second part of what you just said because that’s utter bullshit,” you hiss, clenching your teeth. You exhale sharply. At the risk of saying something stupid, you take a moment to let the anger settle. “But, yes, we do want you. Chris has been in love with you for almost a decade. I developed feelings for you sometime around the first few times we met. And _you_ want this too.”

“I–,” Seb starts, but he closes his mouth and doesn’t finish. More tears well in his eyes. He wipes them away almost as quickly as they appeared. 

Like a mirror to your dispute with Chris over this exact issue, you clamber over Sebastian’s legs and settle yourself in his lap. Recollecting what you can of how you got through to Chris, you place your hands on both sides of Seb’s face. Your heart drops at his reddened, wet eyes but it’s a win that he’s not pushing you away from him. 

“Okay, I get the issue you’re having here. But, I also think you want this way more than you don’t and it’s only going to hurt if you don’t take the opportunity. You’ve worked _so_ hard for everything you have now and you’re just going to let this go? You’re going to let one of the things you want _most_ in the world go? When it’s being handed to you on a silver platter?” 

Your tone becomes increasingly exasperated. Seb’s face softens, though, so you must be getting through to him a little bit. He casts his eyes downward, refusing to make eye contact with you. 

“You’re right,” he chokes out quietly. If it weren’t for how sad he sounds you would jump for joy at his confession. 

A little too eager, you ask, “So you’ll have us?” 

It’s an odd phrasing, but how else are you supposed to say it? Your relationship is highly unconventional and there’s no label in the world to describe what you and Chris are to each other and what you want Seb to be to you both. You’re just… _together._ You want to be together. 

“Yes,” Sebastian replies, soft and breathy. “I will.” 

You drop your hold on his cheeks and wrap your arms around his neck. Following what Chris always does to Seb, you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder. Slowly, Seb embraces you in return. In a matter of seconds, however; Sebastian is clinging on to you like he’ll die if he lets go. 

“We’re going to do this,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. “And I promise we’re going to do it right.”

“There’s a lot to discuss.”

“I know,” you respond dismissively. “But hug now and talk later.” 

Immediately, Seb pulls away from the embrace. You frown. Things were going so well. His face is scrunched up, a clear sign of confusion. 

“Chris is okay with _this_?” He gestures between you and himself. “I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.” 

There wasn't much going on with the hug. It wasn't quite platonic, but it _was_ an innocent hug. An outsider would suspect nothing unusual if they had walked in upon the scene. Maybe he wasn't talking about the hug.

“Believe it or not,” you say, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, “we’ve discussed this before. If the opportunity ever came up we agreed we could do whatever.” 

Seb’s face drops a little but he masks it as best as he can. “So, with anyone? You normally do… _stuff_ with other people?” 

You realize what he means instantly. “No! Just you, Seb. It’s just you.” You press a light, gentle kiss to his stubbled cheek. “We love you. You’re the only one we want. The _only_ one.” 

“Okay,” he breathes out, relieved. Sebastian nods slowly, not affirming anything but out of nervous habit. He licks his lips, likely an unconscious move. “I love you. I haven’t said it yet, but I _do_ . I love you. And I love Chris. I am so, so, _so_ in love with you both.”

“Can I kiss you?” You blurt out. 

His eyebrows raise in amusement but Seb smiles small and fondly. His blue eyes shine brightly, barely any remnants of crying left, and the skin around them crinkles. He is absolutely gorgeous. If you could stare at him like this for the rest of eternity you would be perfectly content. “It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I've been working on this chapter for a Really long time (porn is hard, OKAY !!) and I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for reading. The comments I've been getting warm my heart so much <3

Tilting your head to the side, careful not to knock your nose against his, you press your lips against Sebastian’s. He kisses back immediately, confident and sure like you’ve done this a million times before. Despite that, it’s still a tad awkward. Fumbling and uncertain, he tentatively places a hand on your cheek. You melt into his warm touch and part your lips, allowing him to do the same. There’s no sparks or fireworks. There’s no grand moment of things finally falling into place. It just… feels right. 

You’re through with being chaste and ladylike, so you take what you’ve been craving for so long. Tangling your fingers in his fluffy locks of hair, you kiss Sebastian hungrily. It’s agony to consider that you’ve been missing this for months. That you probably could have had it sooner if you just _communicated_. 

Seb tastes like tacos, you realize. You can’t help but giggle against his lips. “Something funny?” He teases, pulling away ever so slightly. 

“You taste like tacos.” 

“And you think you don’t?” 

You kiss him again, letting the world around you melt away. And it does. Moaning quietly against your lips, Seb parts his lips to let you in again. You’re not sure how long you kiss him for, it could be seconds or minutes even hours. Time becomes irrelevant because Sebastian and his wonderfully soft lips are the only things you care about. Slowly, the passion in it builds, becoming less gentle and more sensual. You’re each letting out quiet, little gasps and soft moans when you break the kiss. 

“Not that this isn’t _very_ fun,” you rasp, eyes flitting between his darkened eyes and red lips. A possessive sort of pride fills your chest. _You_ did that to him. “But I was wondering, and we don’t have to if you don’t want to, if you would fuck me?”

Seb dips his head to the side, placing his lips right next to your ear. “No,” he whispers, the hot breath sending a chill down your spine. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear as a small frown stretches across your lips. “But, I will make love to you.” 

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god! Can you get _any_ cheesier? Who even says that anymore?” 

“Hey! It’s a real thing that people do still say!” You roll your eyes. Seb dips his head back down to the spot by your ear and kisses the shell of it. His voice is low and husky when he speaks. “I’m not gonna fuck you tonight. I’ll do that next time. Fuck you so hard you can’t walk. But, tonight I just want to love my girl, okay?”

Your cheeks flush but you nod. “Okay.” 

Sebastian lifts you off his lap and places you on the couch beside him. He stands up. Tall and imposing, he seems like a giant from your spot on the couch. 

“Good. I have a few things I need to do. It won’t take too long but why don’t you go wait for me on the bed? Anything you need is in the top nightstand drawer. Sounds good?”

You nod in response and he sends you off with a wave of his hand. Anticipation and arousal begin to build in your body. You’re bouncing on your heels by the time you get in the bedroom and open the nightstand drawer. There’s a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. You grab a condom package and place it on the surface of the nightstand. 

Unsure of how long Seb is going to take, you strip out of your shirt and leggings. The bra you’re wearing isn’t exactly the nicest thing you own but at least your panties match, so you can’t be too embarrassed. Your phone is still in the kitchen so you lay back against the pillows and position your body in a hopefully enticing position. You try not to think too much as you wait. 

A few minutes later, Sebastian enters the room. He grins at you but the evident semi he’s sporting in his sweatpants tells you he is clearly more affected than his face shows.

“Hi,” you say, but the word comes out as a nervous whisper. 

Seb rubs the back of his neck. “Hey. You uh… you look good.” Your nose scrunches at his awkwardness because you _know_ he’s smoother than this, but Seb must think it’s because of his words. “Not just good! Great, actually. Really nice.” 

“Thanks?” 

Seb clambers over to the bed as his eyes rake over your body. Despite the garments you have on, the move leaves you feeling naked. He bites his lip as he sits down next to you, cupping your cheek. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not right. Y-.” 

Whatever he is about to say is swallowed by you pulling him down into a kiss. It catches him off guard but he melts into it immediately, taking control. You fall under his touch and drag him as close to as you can, falling onto your back on the pillow under you. The kiss is hungry and all-consuming and you want _more_. You want all of him. His mouth isn’t enough. 

Your hands begin to roam over his body. First over his head and hair and then down his back and sides until you physically can not stretch your arms anymore. You have a hand on his hip when Sebastian breaks the kiss. He raises his head and gazes down at you, with arousal darkened eyes. His usually pink lips are a rosy red and they're kiss-bitten and swollen. 

“You,” he says breathily, “are _the_ most amazing, gorgeous thing in the world.” 

You never considered yourself to be especially pretty. Certainly not gorgeous. But his words leave no room for disagreement. The way he says it sounds like a _fact._ And maybe it helps you believe it just a little bit too. 

“So, what did you get out?” He turns to the nightstand and sees the condom. Seb nods. “Good. Always good to be safe. We’ll probably need lube though.” 

It’s not something you’ve ever needed in the past, but you’re not going to argue. It certainly can’t hurt to use it. The thing is, you’re not a huge fan of condoms. Bareback is just… better. And besides, you’re on birth control and as long as Seb is clean it doesn’t matter. 

“Seb,” you mumble. His head whips around. You avert your gaze as your cheeks heat up. “Could we actually _not_ use a condom?” 

Instantly, you want to bury your face in the pillows and scream in embarrassment. 

“Is Chris okay with it?” 

It’s not a veto, which surprises you. And when you look at Sebastian’s face again, he looks more inquisitive than anything. “I’m not sure.” 

“Let me ask. But if he doesn’t respond then we’re using one.” 

Seb pulls out his phone from his pocket and types out a text, probably explaining the situation and asking for Chris’s permission. He’s setting his phone down on the nightstand when it dings with a response. “Oh, we’re good to go.”

“That was fast.”

Seb doesn’t respond directly to what you’ve said. “I’m clean, just so you know,” he says, climbing back onto the bed. “I haven’t even gotten laid in a long time.” 

He says it so nonchalantly but his cheeks are flushed and even you know the resistance behind the statement. You give him a coy smile as he makes eye contact with you. “Well, we’re going to fix that very soon.” 

“Indeed we are.” 

Sebastian pounces at you and attacks your neck with an array of kisses, slowly making his way further down. Despite his movement, he cages you in with his warm body. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating. You could probably get drunk on the familiarity of it alone.

He plants kisses over each of your shoulders and then over every piece of flesh exposed on your chest. It’s not until then that he slides his hands under your back and deft fingers unhook your bra. “You’re good at that,” you whisper in his ear as you help him to slide your bra off. He chuckles lightly, slipping your bra off your arms and throwing it aside. He’s apparently just as careless as Chris is with clothing and you can’t help but huff in annoyance. 

Sebastian swipes his thumbs over your nipples and lets out a noise of contentment. You shudder under the light touch. “You have such pretty tits, sweetheart,” he purrs. Sucking a hickey on your left breast, he makes a growly noise. “Can I eat you out, honey?” 

Instantly, you moan aloud. “Fuck, _please_.” 

Taking the invitation, Seb splays an almost impossibly large hand across your stomach and situates himself between your thighs. He spreads your legs and pulls down your panties. He doesn’t hesitate to dive in. Sebastian licks into you like you’re his favorite meal and the pleasure that shoots through you makes you mewl like a kitten. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands, pulling away for just a second. As soon as you do as he says, Seb is back to eating your cunt like it’s his job. He’s determined and thorough and _so_ good at it. You’re fully sated with what you have when Seb slips a finger inside you and suddenly you want _more_. His tongue teases your clit as his finger pumps in and out of you, stretching you out with its thickness alone. He slides another finger in alongside it and suddenly it’s too much. 

You’re squirming against Sebastian’s face, body completely overcome with pleasure. You decide you not only want more but _need_ more. “Seb, please. Please, I need you in me _now_ ,” you practically sob. You’re close to coming but you don’t want to until you’re on his cock. 

Seb retracts his face from between your thighs and pulls his fingers out at an agonizingly slow pace. The loss of the digits leaves you feeling far too stretched to be this empty. Sebastian’s face is flushed and his mouth and surrounding stubble are wet with slick. The presented image only increases your arousal. Whining quietly, you press your thighs together. 

He must get the message to get a move on because Sebastian sits up on his knees. He sheds his shirt and then slowly pulls down both his sweats and underwear. Out flops his hard length. It’s long, not as long as Chris’ but certainly satisfying enough. The major difference, however; is the girth. Seb’s cock is not just thick, it’s _fat_. Probably as wide as your forearm.

You can’t help but let out a strangled moan. It borders on being a whine. Your gaze hasn’t left his cock and you know Seb realizes that. Your eyes widen and you blink several times before speaking. 

“Is that even gonna _fit_?” You ask incredulously. 

“You can't just say that, oh my god!” Sebastian shucks off his pants, briefs, and socks. He’s finally naked in front of you, sun-kissed skin all over and cock bobbing. The tip is flushed a pretty pink, the same color as his lips. It’s a wonderful sight and you permanently burn the image in your brain. “Why do you think I suggested using lube?”

Scooting down onto your back, you open your legs and position yourself comfortably as Seb opens the lube and slicks himself up. When he returns, hovering over you, he smirks. “Missionary, huh?”

“I thought you wanted to _make love to me_ ,” you tease, smirking right back. You playfully poke his stomach where your finger is met by hard abs. 

“I do.” Your brain takes a leap at those two words. Goeing far past what any rational person would think, your brain interprets the words as not just a confirmation of what Seb wants to do but also his love. Marriage is a taboo topic in a situation like yours and far out of the question, but you’re still allowed to interpret the words ‘I do’ as a similar declaration. 

Sebastian fists his cock slowly as he positions himself over you. He drags the head of his cock over your clit, sending an electric feeling through you. You need him. 

“Seb, c’mon. _Please_ ,” you whine. You couldn’t care any less about how desperate it sounds. The plea must prompt him because he lets the head of his cock catch on your opening within seconds. He places a hand on your hip and curls his fingers around it tightly. 

As you wrap your arms around his neck, Seb connects your lips and begins pushing in. The slide is slow and it burns. It genuinely hurts because of how _thick_ his cock is. Your body feels like it’s being split in half and will tear apart any second. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my _god_ ,” you babble. Sebastian uses his free hand to gently stroke your clit. If you didn’t know before, you definitely know now that he knows what he is doing. You squirm under his skillful touch. 

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he rasps. Burying your head in his shoulder, you let out a loud, desperate whine. His grip instantly tightens on your hip. “You just gotta relax.” 

You try, but it’s extremely difficult. His cock is so thick. You’ve never been this stretched out before and his length is hitting places you didn’t even know it was possible to. It really is a good thing Seb suggested using lube. 

He finally bottoms out after what feels like forever. Neither of you moves immediately. Or even says anything. The only sound you hear, pressed against one another’s bodies, is the other’s heavy breaths. And then Seb finally begins to move. He thrusts in and out shallowly, allowing you to adjust to him inside you. Slowly the pain subsides and it feels good. Way better than good. 

The movements are unbearably slow. You whine petulantly, needing more. Seb catches on quickly and increases the speed of his thrusts. 

“Fuck,” Seb groans. His voice is deep and low and incredibly raspy. It does _t_ _hings_ to you. Meaning you clench your cunt as pleasure shoots through you. Your limbs begin to feel like jelly so you tighten your grip around his neck, intent on not ruining the moment by slipping. “Oh _god._ You’re so good. So perfect and tight.” 

You can’t even bring yourself to respond. It’s ironic because your first time with Chris was different. You were wild and talkative. But you can barely form a word now with Seb and your body is weak and limbs like jelly. You refuse to admit it, but maybe there really is a difference between fucking and making love. 

Moving your face away from the crook of Sebastian’s shoulder, which is becoming hot and sweaty anyway, you make eye contact with your lover. His eyes are big and wide, darkened considerably too. His cheeks are red and pink lips a deep red surely from being bitten too much. You finally manage words. 

“You’re so pretty,” you breathe out, almost astonished. Sebastian doesn’t stop his thrusts but he slows significantly. He blushes deeply, the red consuming his entire face. You aren’t sure what brings it on but tears well up in your eyes. “I love you.” 

The tears begin to fall. You’ve never cried during sex before and it’s a bit of a shock. However, you don’t dwell on it. Sebastian clearly doesn’t feel as apathetic about it as you do. He stops moving immediately, even pulling out. 

“You’re crying. Why are you crying? Are you okay?” He’s frantic and worried. You can’t help but laugh as the tears continue falling. It’s not a secret you’re an emotional wreck. 

“ _I_ _love you_ ,” you declare, though it’s quiet. Sebastian pulls you in for a short but gentle kiss. He releases his grip on your waist and grabs your right hand, leaving your left on his neck. Interlacing your fingers, he presses a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“I love you too,” he says with emotion thick in his voice. A small smile flickers across his lips. It’s not exactly a joyful smile but it’s loving and caring and fond. It's a smile that manages to articulate what can’t be said in words. A wave of emotions washes over you and settles in your chest. “Can we resume?”

You nod enthusiastically but Sebastian frowns. “Use your words, baby,” he demands. You weren’t so sure you wanted the same thing from Seb as you get from Chris but now you know you _definitely_ do. 

“Yes, _please_.” 

Seb kisses the region of skin between your breasts and pushes back inside you in a long but fluid motion. The maneuver knocks all the breath out of you as you exhale deeply. Sebastian clenches your hand like he never wants to let go. You hope he doesn’t. 

“You’re so _good_ , sweetheart,” he gasps. “So perfect. Love you so much. Can’t believe I can finally have this.”

Seb hits your sweet spot at the exact moment. A loud moan forces its way out of you. “This and more,” you choke out. It’s quiet but just loud enough for him to hear, pressed up against you. When you blink, there are more tears welling in your eyes. “You might be making love to me now but _god_ , the things I want you to do to me.”

“I love you _s_ _o much_.” His eyes are crystal blue. They look wet. You might not be the only one crying. “I’ll do anything you want, sweetheart. You deserve the fucking world and I’d give it to you if I could.” 

Seb’s thrusts get sloppier, faster, and more desperate by the second. You begin pleading a chorus of _Seb, please, please, oh my god_. Anything within the realm of those words comes out of your mouth without even a thought. You can’t think straight at all, completely delirious with need. The only thoughts floating in your head are that you love Seb and you need to come. 

Seb seizes your interlocked hands to his chest as you rub your finger over your swollen clit. The image of his half-lidded eyes, swollen lips, and flushed cheeks mixed with his already gorgeous face sends you tumbling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you with a wave of hot pleasure, making you cry out. You tighten around Sebastian’s thick length and he gasps. His thrusts quicken and get increasingly harsher. He buries his head in your shoulder and slams home one last time.

“You’re _so_ good, baby,” he says. His voice quivers as he lets out a loud groan. He makes a choked noise only a few seconds later. Warm come spills into you in bursts as Seb releases your hands. He takes your face into his palms as soon as they’re free and kisses you so hard you go dizzy. Seb’s breaths are deep and ragged when he lets you go. “I love you so fucking much, sweetheart.” 

“Cuddle me,” you grumble. It’s a little rude but Seb doesn’t seem to care. He huffs out a laugh. 

“Honey, we gotta clean up.”

“Nuh-uh,” you say. “I’m not moving, sorry.” 

Sebastian pulls out of you and the loss of his body around and in you leaves you empty and cold. Shuddering, you curl into yourself. It’s not very late but all you want to do is sleep. “Fine. Let me at least get you a shirt to sleep in,” Seb says. 

He pushes himself off the mattress and onto the floor. You close your eyes and hear him rifle around his drawers for a shirt. 

“Here. This is big enough to not wear anything else,” he says. Your eyes fluter open to grab the shirt from his hands and you shrug it on sluggishly. Immediately you fall back down against the covers. “Alright, you lazy little thing. I’m gonna text Chris and turn off the lights. I’ll be right back.”

The only response you give is a hum of acknowledgment. You’re set on falling asleep soon. He returns a few minutes later and gets into bed beside you. Seb pulls you into his arms. He’s warm and his touch is exactly what you need. You place a hand on the arm wrapped around your waist and attempt to sleep. 

The front door opens a little while later. Chris enters the bedroom less than a minute after. Thankfully he doesn’t turn on the lights. Sebastian immediately moves away from you and sits up. Burrowing into the pillow, you don’t bother to pay attention as the two talk in hushed whispers. The only thing that, barely, gets your attention is the sounds of lips making contact. You smile to yourself, glad they finally get to kiss for the first time. 

Subsequently, a hand brushes your hair and lips, distinctively Chris’s by the beard surrounding it and not just stubble, kiss your forehead. “Hi, baby,” he whispers. 

You let out a small noise, upset at being disturbed. “Hi, Daddy,” you mumble, into the pillow, without even thinking. Seb snickers beside you and you attempt to jab him in the ankle with your toe. In your exhausted state, your aim is horrible and your foot doesn’t even brush him. In the depths of your foggy mind, you wonder if Seb wants to be called something too. 

“I’m glad you two had fun.” 

Seb wraps his body around you like an octopus. “Come to bed,” he says to Chris, almost a whine. Not bothering to open your eyes, you hum in agreement and snuggle against Seb’s bare chest. The telltale signs of Chris stripping out of his clothing fill the room. 

“Just so you two know, I _am_ going to want to get in on some of that action soon,” Chris says quietly. You hear his jeans fall on the floor and then the rest of his clothes. You’re convinced he doesn’t bother to make sure the items land anywhere next to one another, like usual. If you had the energy, you would laugh.

“Just get in the damn bed already, Evans,” Seb grumbles into your hair. A few seconds later, the bed dips as Chris climbs under the covers. He scoots closer to Seb and pulls the other man into his arms, effectively turning the bed into a cuddle pile. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for close to a decade,” he whispers into the darkness. It’s not clear whether he means kissing Sebastian or cuddling him. 

Seb shushes him and mutters, “Go to _sleep_.” 

Too fucked out and exhausted, you can’t bring yourself to laugh or even respond. Things may not have been fully discussed, but they’re where they should be. And that means the three of you with each other exactly how you've always wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3
> 
> Any thoughts about what she should call Seb? I have a few ;)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, my dear readers! I am truly terribly sorry for this MORE than overdue update. Things have been EXTREMELY hectic lately and I haven’t had a lot of writing time. And then I didn't have power so I was writing on my phone. So, please excuse any mistakes and enjoy!!!! I love you all <3

When you wake in the morning, your bedmates are making out. As you try to adjust to being awake, your eyes focus on the scene in front of you. Seb is straddling Chris’s lap, thick thighs bracketing Chris’s own. They’re both naked and rutting up against one another while they lock lips. You’d be way more interested if you hadn’t _just_ woken up. 

Sitting up against the headboard, you yawn. The two men finally notice you. 

“Morning,” Sebastian says quietly, embarrassed enough for you to pick up on. There’s a smattering of dark, purpling hickies on his neck that you can’t tear your eyes away from. 

“Want to join?” Chris asks. You don’t need to look at his face to know he’s smirking devilishly. 

“Gimme a minute.” 

You head to the bathroom and freshen up a little. You’ve done this enough times with Chris to know what you need to do. Step one being splashing water on your face. You don’t want to be in a haze because of how tired you are. When you’re finished readying yourself, you head back to the bedroom. Clambering onto the bed, you notice the ache in your body. Especially your thighs. If Seb’s “lovemaking” causes that much of an ache, you can only imagine how it will feel when he goes _rough_. Heat curls in your abdomen at the thought. 

You’re greeted with Chris pulling you to his side and kissing you. It’s obscene and all tongue. When he pulls away you’re more awake and aroused than you had been prior. Sebastian’s gaze is locked on you and his eyes are blown wide. 

“Kiss him,” Chris commands. 

Nodding, you close the distance between you and Sebastian. Locking lips with him, you attempt to mimic Chris’ filthy kiss. It doesn’t work as well as planned. Fortunately, Sebastian’s shyness seems to have faded because he digs his fingers in your hair and pulls you in as close as possible. His primal nature creeps up slowly as the kiss deepens, becoming more and more sensual. By the time it ends, you're moaning breathily into his mouth. 

Chris makes a pleased noise. “You two make a gorgeous sight.” Seb looks at you and rolls his eyes. His lips fall into an o-shape when Chris settles against his back and slides a hand down his thigh. The hand comes to rest on his erect cock, the majority of Chris’s palm encompassing the base. Chris nuzzles into Sebastian’s neck and kisses it as he strokes his partner’s length. “I think that you should let me fuck you while she sucks your cock.” 

“I _like_ the sound of that,” you say, perking up. “Besides, my legs hurt a little.” 

“Well, only if Seb agrees, sweetheart.”

“Uh, _yes_. I very much agree and like the sound of it as well,” Seb replies eagerly. Chris rubs his thumb over the head of Sebastian's cock causing him to moan quietly. The Sound is like heaven to your ears. 

“Great,” Chris says, pleased. He turns to you, continuing to teasingly stroke Sebastian’s length while somehow keeping his composure despite being rock hard. “Let me prep our boy here and then you can get that pretty little mouth of yours on his pretty little cock.” 

A loud laugh bubbles up in your throat and the words are out into the world before you can process what you’re saying. “A pretty dick, yes. But, little? Nowhere near that.” 

“Shut _up_ ,” Seb grumbles. His cheeks are flushed when you glance back at him. Chris doesn’t hold back his chuckle. 

“Mmm, no thanks. I’m good.” The smile you send Seb’s way is more of a smirk. It’s a mix of coy and bratty, with enough edge to end play time and really get the morning rolling. And it certainly does. 

Chris darts toward you and pushes you down against the mattress, a playful smile on his lips but eyes darkened considerably. His voice is low and almost growly when he speaks. “You know, I’m not the only one in charge here now. Not the only one you should be listening to. I think you should apologize, baby.” 

Instinctively, like you have a hundred times before, the words leave your mouth. “Yes, Daddy.” 

Chris leans down and kisses your neck. He allows his teeth to scrape along the skin before he sucks a hickey onto you. Humming, he slides a hand up your borrowed shirt and gropes your ass. “Good girl,” he says, accent more prominent than you’ve heard in a while. 

Almost on autopilot, your body moves towards Sebastian. You stick out your bottom lip just enough to show a small pout and look up at him through your eyelashes. “I’m sorry, Seb.” 

Chris returns to his spot behind Sebastian. The unmistakable click of the cap of the lube bottle rings throughout the room. 

“It’s okay,” Seb says. He begins to move toward you but abruptly stops. “ _Oh-_ oh my god, Chris! _Fuck_.” 

It doesn’t take a genius to comprehend what’s going on before you. Your eyes fixate on the scene before you. Arousal builds inside you, the familiar heat curling in your abdomen, as you watch Seb whine and writhe against Chris’s fingers. 

Chris isn’t breathing quite so steadily but he does his best at acting composed. “You can touch him,” he says to you. You’ve been doing this long enough to know it’s a command. 

Scooting closer to Sebastian, you wrap a hand around his cock. It’s an angry red at this point, begging for release. The added friction makes his breathy moans turn into a full groan. 

“Jesus christ, just fucking _fuck_ me already!”

You glance down to where Chris’s fingers are. 

“You’re not stretched enough,” you say. Sebastian just groans in annoyance. Because you have no filter, you open your mouth again. “Not my fault he has a big dick.” 

It’s another five minutes of you and Chris torturing Sebastian (his words) before he’s ready. He complained the entire time, saying he was ready but both Chris and you knew he most certainly wasn’t. It was a surprise to you anyway that Seb’s bedroom personalities were so contrasting. He had been much more in control the previous night. Now he’s completely giving himself to Chris. 

When Chris determines Seb is stretched enough, he pulls Sebastian into position, on his back in the middle of the bed with his legs spread. By no means is Sebastian Stan a small or light person and Chris’s strength is still astounding to you. Of course, he’s no Marvel supersoldier, but it’s _hot._

The entire scene before you is hot. Sebastian is flushed all over and his lips are a pretty red because he keeps biting them, stifling loud noises. Chris is a sight to behold as well. He’s not pretty in the same way Seb is, but he’s just as gorgeous in his own right. The hunger, the pure _want_ and _desire,_ is evident on his face. Just watching them makes the arousal overcome your body. But, this isn’t about you so you have to stay level-headed. 

“Put your mouth on him,” Chris rasps. It’s clear all of his composure is gone. Eagerly, you follow the direction. While not the optimal first time to be sucking Seb’s cock, you’ve wanted this for a long time. And you intend to make it enjoyable for all parties involved. 

Slowly, you grip Sebastian’s thick length with your hands. Lowering your head and body, angling yourself so Chris won’t accidentally hit you, you take as much of his cock as you can into your mouth. You’ve still got a gag reflex, but it’s been lessened greatly by your time with Chris, so despite his girth you’re able to swallow about two-thirds of him. 

One of his Seb’s hands fists a handful of your hair as soon as you swallow around him and he groans loudly. Of course, your rhythm is ruined by Chris lining himself up and thrusting inside Seb at that _exact_ moment. 

“ _Fuck,”_ Chris moans. A similar reaction comes from Sebastian. 

“You two are going to kill me, oh my _god_ ,” Seb says. You pull off his cock with a lewd pop and lick a stripe up the base. Stopping at the head, you lap at the precum at his slit. Seb’s hand grips you harder. It makes something in you flip like a switch. The cockiness leaves your body so fast it’s like it was never there. 

You whine needily around Sebastian’s cock and press your thighs together. His grip in your hair is tight but Chris’s thrusts are more powerful. You try to find a rhythm with him, pulling away as he thrusts in and trying not to gag. 

The hand in your hair is dominating. If makes it incredibly difficult for you to avoid falling into a floaty headspace. You want to be in control and make this about Sebastian. Fighting the urge to give up control, you lick and lap at Seb’s cock instead of just letting him fuck your face. Not that you don’t want that. Just not now. 

Chris begins speaking, letting his mouth run the show, but you only catch some of it. You’re busy acquainting your mouth with Sebastian’s cock. “So good… fucking gorgeous, I tell ya… wanna keep you around my cock forever.” 

Chris’s filthy mouth only spurs you on further, despite it not being directed at you. Occasionally his free hand will stroke your flank, but he’s focused on Seb. And rightfully so. Angling your head to the side, you take Sebastian’s length as deep as you can and look right up at him. It takes a few seconds for you to catch his eye, but Seb moans when you do. He must tighten around the cock inside him, because Chris makes a growly noise almost instantly. 

“Look at you,” Seb says, throaty and deep. He makes a high noise when Chris thrusts in. “So pretty. Fucking gorgeous.” 

“Not just her,” Chris says. His words are staccato, showing just how affected and turned on he is. He strokes your flank and then splays a large hand over your skin. The heat radiating from him is almost too much. “Think I must’ve died or something ‘cause you two are fucking _heavenly._ Like goddamn angels, I swear. _Fuck._ ” 

Chris’s hips snap back and forth, harder and faster by the second. He’s getting closer to finishing. You lick and lap at Seb’s cock like a lollipop. Occasionally, you even make small, quiet noises. Unintentionally, of course. 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Seb moans. The words are drawn out. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.” 

“Where do you want to come, Seb?” Chris asks. “Over yourself? Or her mouth or face? Maybe her tits?” 

Sebastian groans low in his throat at the other man’s words. His grip tightens in your hair, pulling on the right side is painful. “ _Mouth_.” The word is so desperate it’s clear it’s the only one he can manage. 

It causes you to whine needily and the cycle repeats. The noises in the room become a cacophony of skin on skin, slapping hips, wet sounds, and moans and grunts. 

Seb’s noises get increasingly more desperate. Trying your hardest to push him over the edge, you swallow him down and lick at his cock, just as desperate as he is. It’s only a minute or so before his hips are snapping up faster than you can even handle. 

He stutters against your mouth, fingers curling your hair into a fist and pushing your head down. Your mouth is filled with the salty, bitter taste of his release. You swallow every single drop down, not letting a single one go to waste.

In the meantime, Chris continues to groan and run his mouth even more. Sebastian coming only spurs him on, leaving Chris more desperate to come himself. “Jesus Christ. You two are just too much. Fucking _hell_ , Seb. You’re so tight. So perfect around me. Just like our little sweetheart right here. _Fuck_ , _fuck_.” 

The speed of his thrusts increase and so does his grip on Sebastian’s hip. You're sure there will be bruises. As much as you want to watch Chris, you decide you also really want to kiss Seb. You push yourself up and move so that you’re hovering above Sebastian. 

Like he knows what you’re thinking, he pulls you down into a kiss. You start slow but then it becomes firm. The kiss is all tongue and teeth; positively _filthy_. It must be a sight for Chris because he begins to pant and groan. In a matter of seconds, his hips still against Sebastian, all movement stopping. Chris just groans loudly as he spills into Seb. 

You continue kissing Sebastian, who clearly isn’t opposed to the taste of himself on your tongue. Chris pulls out and immediately collapses beside you. Unlike the previous night, you’re now in the middle of the cuddle sandwich. Though, you’re not quite cuddling because all three of you are far too hot and sweaty. For about a minute, you all lie there, just breathing. 

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. Your voice tilts inquisitively. “Now that we’ve all had cute missionary sex, when are y’all going to destroy me?” 

Seb lets out a startling but tired laugh. Chris just shushes you. “Mouthy brat,” he mutters. 

Scooting over, you rest your head on Seb’s stomach, hair splayed against his broad chest. There’s a hand in your hair but you can’t tell whose it is. Each time Sebastian takes a breath, your head moves up and down. 

“We should probably talk about this,” he says. His breathing is still a little ragged. 

“Yeah.” 

“We want you,” Chris says in a serious tone. “Completely. Not just for sex. We want an exclusive thing. A relationship, if you’ll have us. There’s no label to describe what this is but we want you. Forever.” 

“Chris and I _love you_ ,” you interject. “That’s the most important thing. We can figure out the rest as we go.” 

“Yeah, we can figure out the rest as we go.” 

“Alright. Okay. If you say so then I guess we can. We’ll try our best to make this work,” Seb says. He sounds relieved. Like a weight or worry has been lifted off him. The room goes silent again for another minute. It’s peaceful. You close your eyes and just breathe, trying to not think too much. 

“Come to Disney with us,” Chris says, his words unfortunately breaking the silence. “It’ll be fun, Seb. I promise.” 

You hadn’t discussed it prior, but you don’t care. You had thought the same thing when you found out Sebastian was aware about the trip. “Please?” 

“Of course,” Sebastian replies. Your heart jumps for joy in your chest. Sighing contentedly, you snuggle in closer to your men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (P.S. I did NOT give up on having the reader call Seb something. I promise it will be coming soon!!) 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3


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